Harry Potter and the Wizard's Trials
by Arakasi86
Summary: One choice can change everything. Follow Harry Potter through his epic adventures in a world that turns on just one choice: James Potter chose to have his wand within arm's reach when Voldemort attacked. No slash. Features a Harry who has been well trained and encouraged to excel, he will end up being one tough hombre, but I'll try to make his growth logical and consistent.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I've been a lurker on here fore quite a while and finally decided to upload a story of my own. This story will be novel-length and will feature a Harry raised by his father. This is not a strict divergence-fic, there are other elements that are AU, besides James Potter surviving Halloween '81. So I guess, it could be considered a parallel universe fic.**

**Summary:** One choice can change everything. This story follows the epic adventures of Harry Potter and his contemporaries, through a universe shaped by one fact: James Potter decided to have his wand within easy reach the night Voldemort attacked. This story will eventually carry through the seventh year and beyond, and the scope will be much, much larger than just Magical Britain. As far as shipping goes, there won't be any slash and I don't think Harry/Ginny is going to end up happening, everything else is fair game.

**Prologue**

The quaint village of Godric's Hollow was quiet and peaceful on this Halloween night. That tranquility extended to an exceedingly well hidden cottage that seemed to reside apart from the surrounding tableau.

The heavens were clear tonight. The stars and the crescent moon shed their light upon the town. Remote and uncaring of the goings on of the world. Mars seemed to _glow_.

Inside the house James Potter, former Head Boy, semi-retired Auror, member of the Order of the Phoenix, Lord of House Potter, and Leader of the Marauders, was reclining in a rather comfortable chair reading an article from the monthly,_ Transfiguration weekly_, in the midst of a well appointed living room.

The room had an air of comfort and was adorned in scarlet and gold, the Potter colors… which just so happened to be Gryffindor colors as well. Aside from the comfortable recliner in which he lounged, there was a plush couch, a coffee table, a love seat, another recliner, and a very special trunk with seven locks. Opposite him beside the front door, there was a small fireplace, that was unfortunately not connected to the Floo network due to security concerns, but nonetheless contained a crackling fire.

On the mantle were pictures of the young family and their friends. One picture was of Padfoot grinning proudly, his hair turned scarlet and gold by Harry's first bout of accidental magic. And there was Alice and Lily playing with Neville and Harry in the Hogwarts Infirmary, where both boys had been born.

In a place of honor was a large picture of all the Marauders gathered around Lily, who was holding newborn Harry in her arms. James smiled every time he saw the picture.

This Halloween had been fun, despite the tension of the war, and the fact that they were virtual prisoners in their own house. Lily had told him about the American muggle practice of wearing costumes and he had taken to it with gusto. James had transfigured the trio Vampire costumes, perhaps making Lily's a little more revealing than was strictly necessary, but she did have amazing legs. Lily had charmed some rubber bats to fly around and make spooky sounds. They had gloried in it. Harry had unintentionally made one of the flying bats engorge to the size of a small hippopotamus, which had then proceeded to chase the trio about the house, the young couple laughing too hard to undo Harry's magic.

At the end of the revelry, when Harry was all tuckered out, James had cleaned up with a few spells and replaced his wand in his duelling holster. He felt more than a little guilty for almost putting his wand down on the couch. The holster was a gift from the Senior Auror, Alastor "Constant Vigilance" Moody, and the paranoid bastard would have had his skin for even thinking about leaving his wand out of arm's reach.

Then his wife, the love of his life, Lily, had put Harry to bed and he could hear her changing out of her costume and into her night robes. For a second a grin crossed his features as he thought about going up to have some alone time with hi-

**Boom!**

The explosion shook the Potter's cottage, as the front door of the home was reduced to shards and blown across the foyer, along with parts of the surrounding wall and door frame. James Potter's head smashed into the wall as he was forcibly thrown out of his chair by the blast's powerful shock-wave.

His vision blurred momentarily, he shook his head to clear it, his years of Occlumency training allowing him to regain focus quickly. _Damn_ he thought, _He found Wormtail!_ As the enemy's wards fell in place, he could sense Anti-apparition and Anti-portkey jinxes. There was something else too, but it was unfamiliar and James couldn't identify it.

_No time to think about Wormtail, now!_ James thought grimly, _Only Lily and Harry matter now_.

Ignoring the coppery taste of blood in his mouth and the aching of his shoulder. James glanced in the direction of the disfigured doorway, knowing, dreading, what he would see.

The only thing visible, through the haze of lingering smoke was a shadowy figure, clad all in black, red eyes glowing with malice and dark magic. The air seemed to _thrum_ with the intruder's aura, his oppressive power exerting a force all it's own on the surroundings.

_Death_ had come to Godric's Hollow.

Flicking his wrist, James' wand slid out of his wrist holster and into his waiting hand, the young wizard reflexively rolled to his feet, avoiding a silent Killing Curse.

Fluidly assuming a dueling stance, body quarter turn away from the enemy, knees bent, weight on the balls of his feet, mahogany wand angled toward the imminent threat, James, ruthlessly quashed the fear that threatened to consume him, steadied himself and shouted, "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! I'll try to hold him off — just go!"

The immediate creaking of floorboards above his head, comforted James. Lily was always quick on the uptake.

Unhurriedly Lord Voldemort stalked through the still smoking hole, red eyes assessing measuring, serpentine nostrils flaring. Wand at his side and posture relaxed, the Dark Lord could have been out for a stroll. Except for the cruel smirk on his features.

"Potter, you could have been my right hand, a King of this Age. Instead, you're just another dead blood traitor. Avada Kedavra!" The dark wizard's wand flashed up, and the lethal green light burst forth from his wand.

As death came rushing at him, James relied on instinct and training. He had not been idle in the six days since they had taken up residence at Godric's Hollow. Marauder's were _always_ prepared, and his Auror training had given him invaluable tools. James had set about partially Transfiguring every piece of furniture, so that if the time came, it would take minimal effort to complete the spells.

With a twist of his wand and his will, the plush couch was transfigured. A rather ferocious lion, golden mane gleaming in the light, roared as it jumped in between the wizard and death. Another twist of his wand and a non-verbal _Protego_ produced a blue and white shield separating him from the lion and the curse.

Another explosion rattled the old cottage as the Killing Curse slammed into the transfigured lion. James' shield was strained by the blast, but he focused, furiously sending more power into the spell. The damage to the house itself was minimal, the walls and the ceiling had been reinforced by Lily's expert use of the Unbreakable charm.

No smoke was produced from the violent explosion, Voldemort and James stared at one another, from behind their respective shield charms. Shoring up his mental shields, James dropped the Shield Charm. Voldemort was one of the most skilled Legilimens in history, and James would be damned if that snake-faced bastard got inside _his_ head.

Voldemort reluctantly nodded in what could have been respect and casually dismissed his own Shield Charm.

Faster than a striking Basilisk, the Dark Lord fired a brutal spell chain at the young Auror.

"Crucio! Imperio! Avada Kedavra!"

Stepping to the side he dodged the beam of red light and James, once again, twisted his wand and focused. Six lions were transfigured from the ruined furniture that lay strewn about the room. These were all female lions, agile and fierce. Lily had charmed them to be silent and resistant to supernaturally fast.

The pride began to silently circle Voldemort as James evaded the Unforgivables. Sneering, Voldemort's wand produced a rope of fire. One of the lions behind the dark wizard lunged at the dark lord's exposed back, trying to take advantage of the opening. The rope, brandished like a whip, cut the feline in two.

James, praying that Lily and Harry were on their way to safety, unleashed his own spell chain at the preoccupied dark wizard.

"Aquamenti! Bombarda! Stupefy! Arctis! ", the young wizard roared.

Incredibly precise, the Flame whip cut each spell out of the air. Not missing a beat, the whip continued to assault James and his transfigured allies. A lion's head was decapitated with a fluid slash from the dread wand. The fire spell was versatile and powerful, James was beginning to panic. If he failed, Lily and Harry were dead!

_Fire!_ James thought urgently as he dodged yet another blow from the burning whip, _What can I do about the fire! Anything I throw at him will just be burned away… that's it!_

_Viride Pix!_ James non-verbally conjured Pitch. The conjuration was one of his inventions, it had been unbelievably helpful when pranking Snivellus and the rest of the slimy Slytherins.

Highly pressurized lime green tar shot out of the mahogany wand, aiming to cover the dark lord. At the same time two of the transfigured pride attempted to maul Voldemort. The most feared wizard in ages smoothly bisected the pair of lions and turned his whip to meet the onrushing substance and it it _ignited_.

A torrent of fire surrounded and engulfed the intruder, James and his lions stepped back from the conflagration. The heat was intense causing the paint on the walls to bubble. James didn't think that would stop Voldemort for a second.

Marshalling both his will and his magic, as Voldemort put out the flames, James concentrated on protecting his wife and son. Coupled that with the rage that this monster wanted to destroy his family! The world would have been a better place if Voldemort never existed!

_Bale Agnis,_ James cast spell non-verbally with a twist of his wand. A pure white bar of molten light burst out of his wand and sped towards the dark lord. James felt the spell tax his power, draining away his reserves.

He had never liked the Dark Arts, in fact he reviled them, but he'd do anything to protect his family. The Potter Grimoire held the knowledge of every Potter, ranging back before even the time of Hogwarts, and some of those ancestors had not been as high minded as James. One had worked in the Department of Mysteries and studied the intricacies of time and magic. When he had died, his knowledge had been sent to the Potter Grimoire. That's where James had found the forbidden and deadly spell.

A heartbeat later James non-verbally cast,_ Bombarda Maxima!_

Perhaps sensing the power of the spell, Voldemort conjured a shining shield with a large S gleaming from it's center, just in time for the molten light to come crashing into the defense. The shield's colors seemed to invert and flash out of existence.

James would never forget the look of absolute shock on the dark lord's face as the shield was burned into nothingness. Then the other spell smashed into him and sent Voldemort flying into the wall behind him. Worst luck, James had missed the torso and had only managed to blow off the his enemy's left arm at the shoulder.

There was quite a lot of blood pooling on the hardwood floors.

Not stopping for a second James cast, "Confringo! Incendio!"

Incredibly Voldemort's wand flashed out blocking the spells and the dark wizard was pulled to his feet as if by wires. For the first time that night Voldemort was not smirking, his face showed… _hunger_.

A strange hissing sound came from Voldemort. _Parseltongue_, James thought disgustedly.

A look of intense concentration crossed the dark lord's face as he slashed his wand and a Black orb exploded towards James. The orb seemed to drink in light, pulling warmth from the cottage, guttering out all of the remaining fire.

"Reducto! Diffindo! Depulso!"

James desperately cast as he tried to halt the spell, but to no avail. The orb seemed to feed off of his spells making it stronger and faster. With a last effort of will and a flick of his wand James cast, "Protego Maximus!" and dove to the side.

The orb plowed through his shield as if it wasn't there, and turned toward him, making contact with his wand and then his hand. Then the curse seemed to collapse on itself, and James' hand was no more. There was no pain, just blood pumping out of his amputated forearm in rivulets.

With a flick of the hate filled yew wand, he was bound in thick ropes and silenced. Another spell struck his bleeding stump and there was blinding pain. It felt like little spiders from Hell were having a playdate on his arm. The flesh of his stump was knitting itself back together incredibly fast, and within heartbeats he was no longer bleeding.

"Nullum Magiae Licere." The Dark Lord said in a voice full of malice, followed by a complex wand movement which ended with the wand tip touching James' forehead.

A flash of black light struck James, and a feeling of wrongness seeped into every inch of his being. He tried to grasp his power and cast wandlessly, in order to strike at his foe, but he could no longer feel his magic. He felt_ naked_, exposed, like a newborn babe. His magic had been there even before he journeyed to Hogwarts.

His eyes were inexorably pulled towards Voldemort, his arm seemed to be grotesquely regrowing itself. First bone sprouting with a sickening grinding noise; then muscle and finally the flesh with moist sucking sounds had reformed, and if it weren't for the tattered robe it would've seemed that James' spell hadn't blown the bastard's arm _off_. James was momentarily glad for the silencing spell, he didn't hear himself vomit, too bad he couldn't do anything about the smell.

Red eyes met brown eyes and Voldemort's serpentine features took on a hate filled grin, that made James want to vomit again. James felt the blade of thought, Voldemort's mental probe cut into his shields. It felt like the damn Knight Bus was driving around in his head.

Finding his last shreds of willpower, in the rage and hatred that he felt towards the monstrosity, James withstood the attack.

After a moment, that felt like a lifetime, Voldemort pulled back his probe and studied James with open disdain.

"Defiant still, I see. I was prepared to offer leniency and grant you a quick and honorable death, but your spell has piqued my interest. Such a powerful spell should serve a worthy master." Voldemort seemed to be enjoying himself now.

_Let the bastard gloat_. James thought, _Every second he spends with me is a second that Lily has to run._

He twirled the wand through his long skeletal fingers, and then gleefully pointed it at his defeated opponent.

"Crucio!", the Dark lord said. An almost solid red light flew into James, and he knew pain. James world was pain, every cell in his body was going to combust. The moment stretched out for an eternity, and then the pain was gone.

As the echoes of James' piercing screams died out, Lord Voldemort was visibly buoyed by the pain and degradation that he was inflicting. His hellish eyes seemed to come alive as he said, "Perhaps as a reward for such an excellent duel, I'll allow you to witness the end of your line. Yes that sounds grand. 'The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord', we shall see." Voldemort seemed to be suddenly introspective.

"Now for your son." The word 'son' was filled with an astonishing amount of hate and contempt. "Don't worry, I'm sure he hasn't gotten too far.", Lord Voldemort said as he turned to the stairs.

James felt himself lift off the ground, felt himself hang vertically. The ropes biting into his flesh as he thrashed like a wild animal. Then the unmistakable feeling of the disillusioning charm fell over him

Voldemort ascended the stairs quickly and all too soon arrived at the door to Harry's nursery. The door slammed open without word or gesture from the dark wizard. James hoped that Lily had gotten Harry out.

Lily jumped away from the ajar window, as if startled awake, and whirled toward the door, eyes slowly refocusing, wand trained on Voldemort. Helplessly floating just outside the nursery, James thought he recognized the aftereffects of the Imperius or something very similar.

_That bastard must have put up some kind of ward to inhibit anyone from running!_, James thought frantically as he vainly tried to free himself.

Before getting pregnant with Harry, Lily had been a fighter, and a damned good one at that. _Maybe she would succeed where I failed_, James thought desperately. A solid blue and white shield sprang up in between her and Voldemort.

Faster than thought a red light shattered her shield and impacted upon the witch. Heart rending screams ripped from Lily's mouth as she lay on the floor engulfed in a world of agony.

_Stop you snake-faced bastard! I'll rip your fucking head off!_, James screamed silently as his body and mind convulsed in fear and rage.

The dark lord contemptuously ended the curse and disarmed her with a flick of his wand. He strode toward the child and as he drew close, Lily miraculously moved to block his way. The look of ferocity on her face made James' heart skip a beat.

_A mother Lion protecting her cub_

Voldemort halted, apparently confused by the display.

"Move aside, girl.", the Dark One said, voice full of irritation, deadly wand held at the ready.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!", Lily screamed, desperation radiating from her every cell.

"Imperio!" The curse hit Lily suddenly, but she remained unmoved, implacable.

_That's my Lily_, thought James both incredibly proud and profoundly sad.

"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now.", again he spoke, irritation turning quickly to anger.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead - ", Lily's words were cut short by a green light and the sound of rushing death, then the dull thud of a body hitting the soft carpet of the nursery. Lily Potter nee Evans, the mother of his child, the love of his life was dead.

"Very well.", the dark wizard hissed scornfully.

James let out a silent scream as tears poured from his eyes. The tears and the despair did not obscure his view of the nightmare unfolding before his eyes, his eyelids were transparent. He had no choice, but to watch as Voldemort moved towards Harry. The infant must have been terrified because the entire cottage was _vibrating_, all the glass in the room had shattered, and Harry's wardrobe burst into flames.

The dark lord seemed undaunted by the impressive accidental magic as he strode forth wand upraised, predator seeking prey.

"Avada Kedavra!", roared Lord Voldemort. Green light instantly struck little Harry's crib.

And a heartbeat later there was an incredible explosion of green and white light and Voldemort's body was torn asunder by the incredible force of his hateful curse. James saw _something_ leave the desicated corpse before the ropes binding him vanished and he was thrown backwards by the force of the explosion.

_Lily and Harry!They're gone!_

_Lily and Harry! They're gone!_

_LILY AND HARRY!THEY'RE GONE!_

James was almost catatonic, curled up in a ball sobbing in the middle of the staircase, when the high pitched cry of an infant broke through his despair._ He was going mad!_ James thought, _No one had ever survived the Killing Curse! They're Gone!_

Another cry shattered his denial.

James marshalled his tattered will and found it unstable and amorphous, however the reassuring warmth of his magic had returned. He staggered to his feet, called on by the impossible, demanding wails. The stab of pain from his right forearm made him wince and glance down. The arm was badly burned. _Must've been the explosion_, James thought distractedly as he limped into the destroyed nursery.

Lily's charred corpse tried to draw James, but Harry's shrieks called for his immediate attention. If he stopped for Lily he didn't thinkf he'd ever get moving again.

All he could manage for his beloved was to drop his cloak over her corpse enroute to his son.

James peered at Harry in wonder and gently wiped away the blood from his son's forehead and took hold of the living breathing miracle with his good hand. He pulled the tiny boy into an embrace, his son.

"You're safe my boy. You're safe.", James repeated as a mantra to calm his son.

_Alive! Harry's alive!_

James didn't know how long they stood there, father and son, taking solace in one another's presence. Drawing strength from one another. Trying to heal one another.

CRACK!

The sound of apparition came from downstairs.

_Death Eaters!_ James' tired mind screamed,_ I've gotta get Harry out of here._

James, completely drained and traumatized beyond anything he had ever endured, found the energy to shift Harry to his mangled right arm and reached for the toy snitch that Sirius had gotten Harry for his birthday.

The emergency portkey clutched in his left hand and Harry pinned against James stump and torso. James sorrowfully moved over to touch his wife's shrouded body. Carefully, reverently, he angled her mangled head into his lap as he sidled onto the floor.

_I won't let your sacrifice be in vain, I'll raise him to be strong and good._ James thought fiercely.

Remembering the wraith fleeing from the dark wizard's remains, he made a solemn vow, _When that bastard comes back we'll be ready. Harry won't be alone or unprepared. This I swear on my Life and my Magic._

Regretfully the father of The-Boy-Who-Lived said the password, "Padfoot's Place."

A rough jerk behind his navel and James, Harry, and the corpse of Lily Potter were gone.

A/N: Please let me know what you think!


	2. Potter's Bluff and Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer:** I forgot to put this in the prologue so here it goes, I'm not J.K. Rowling and I own nothing!

**A/N: Hey guys thanks for the reviews. As you'll see this fic diverges widely from canon. Any languages that appear in the story, other than English, were cobbled together using the Google translator. Please forgive my butchery of other languages and enjoy!**

**Potter's Bluff and Diagon Alley**

The verdant grass was cool against Harry's bare feet as he shifted and stepped in smooth, practised movements. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he focused and sent out a flurry of punches and kicks. Grunts and kee-yahs emanated from a diverse group of twenty-five witches and wizards ranging from young Harry James Potter, who was _almost_ eight, to Nicolas Flamel, a man who said he was really old, but looked about the same age as Harry's father. When Harry had questioned his father about it, the older Potter had simply laughed and confirmed that Mr. Flamel was indeed very old.

_Magic, was truly incredible!_, Harry thought.

Daily morning exercises were a routine for the inhabitants of the ancestral castle of the Potters, called Potter's Bluff. At the crack of dawn the Potters, their guests, and Marauders Incorporated employees would all filter down out of the castle and assemble out on the Quidditch Pitch. Then the group would begin stretching and go on a light run.

Once they warmed up, the group moved onto the forms, a series of highly regimented movements that consisted of punching, kicking, blocking, and dodging. Practicing the forms was_ hard_, you had to move with explosive speed and strength, while retaining the perfect technique. If you were even an inch off your mark Moony or one of the Medjai who supervised the forms, would come over and _correct_ you and you would have to start all over. Some of the adults seemed to detest the forms, but a look from the Medjai was enough to forestall any complaint.

The Medjai were a group of warrior wizards who had served as the protectors of the Pharaohs for over 5,000 years. After the last pharaoh passed away, they became a famous mercenary force who won renown for their capability and trustworthiness. The Potter family had hired a dozen of them, for what must have been an_ astronomical_ sum, to protect their household.

The group continued moving through the forms for another ten minutes. Harry was elated, he hadn't been stopped once while going through his three forms. Moony had said that he and Neville had to start off with the beginner forms and once they mastered them they could move onto the more advanced forms. That was over a year ago and Harry really wanted to advance.

Harry wished that Moony was here to see how well he was doing, but his father had said that Moony was off dealing with something called. "The Clans".

After the forms, the adults went over and started makeshift duels, Harry saw Bill Weasley and two of the Medjai form up opposite from Harry' s dad. Turning away from the magical training, Harry could still sense the spells being cast.

For as long as Harry could recall, he remembered having this sixth sense. When he had realized that he could feel the magic around him like a physical entity, the young boy had been surprised to find out that only a very few people, powerful and experienced magical practitioners one and all, shared his sense. Harry's father explained that on the New Year after his first birthday, Padfoot had provided them with an old family ritual that awakened the latent senses of it's target. The ritual was originally designed to identify seers, but it had awoken Harry's Magical Awareness.

Neville and Harry were led to the other side of the pitch by Hassan, one of the Medjai wizards This was all routine for both boys.

What wasn't routine was the fact that a grizzled old man with a peg leg, a glowing blue eye, which Harry sensed was much more than a replacement eye, and vicious scars lining his face was standing next to the practice area. The boys glanced at one another, trying to see if either knew who the newcomer was, and shrugged.

When they arrived at the practice area, the scarred stranger remained silent. Harry got the disquieting feeling that he was being measured, as he and Neville assumed their accustomed stances, looking for any openings in their partners defenses. Neville moved first, pivoting to send a kick at Harry's lower body, trying to sweep Harry's legs out from under him. The Potter scion stepped back to dodge and made his own kick towards Neville's gut.

Forgetting the foreign presence, the boys fell into a comfortable rhythm of punches, kicks, blocks, and evasions. Harry was faster, had better technique, and better instincts, Neville countered by being a bit stronger and having a bit of a reach advantage. The brothers usually split their matches.

Harry wasn't stupid, the boy knew Neville wasn't really his brother, just like the woman he called Mum, wasn't Harry's real mother. Harry's real mother, Lily, had died protecting him from the terrible Lord Voldemort, she had been a beautiful, good, and powerful witch, and Harry's seven year old mind felt sad about her death, in an abstract manner. Harry, however, knew and loved Neville and Alice fiercely, even when Neville was being an insufferable bookworm and Alice was smothering Harry.

A few minutes later the spar was brought to a halt and the sweating, panting brothers were called over to the scarred man. James and Alices stood on either side of the man and were engaging in a quiet conversation. As they approached, the adults stopped talking and their mum addressed them, "Neville, Harry I'd like you to meet one of our oldest friends, Alastor Moody."

"Hello, sir." the boys echoed one another as they popped to attention. Mum and Dad had told the boys stories about the legendary Auror, Alastor Moody. He had trained both of them, as Auror trainees and had brought in half the prisoners to Azkaban.

The older wizard merely grunted and inclined his head, magical eye whirling about. Both James and Alice chuckled.

"Alastor here is going to be accompanying us to Diagon Alley today, he's to be your tutor." Alice continued, as the boys shared a look.

On one hand they were going to Diagon Alley! They hardly ever got to go anywhere. A couple of months ago, the family had gone to Greece for Padfoot's wedding, and while Padfoot was Harry's favorite adult, the boys had to hang out with Karina, Sirius' daughter. She was even more of a bookworm than Neville, and a girl to boot, so that didn't count. Before that Harry remembered visiting the Delacours in France, they had a snooty older daughter and one who was just a baby, like Gideon and Rose.

On the other hand, they had tutors and lessons for everything, Dancing, Etiquette, Reading and Writing, History, Horseback Riding, Foreign Languages, Arithmetic, Occlumency, Muggle Relations, Piano for Harry, and Singing for Neville. The last thing either boy wanted was another tutor, even if it was a legendary Auror.

"When we get to Diagon Alley we're going to buy you boys wands, and Mad-Eye will be your official tutor." Lord Potter said with a smirk.

To say that the black haired boy was shocked would've been an understatement. Everyone knew that you only got your wand the summer before attending Hogwarts. Following his surprise came excitement, soon he'd be performing magic using a wand! He could do some wandless magic, like moving things with his mind or channeling magic through his body to make it stronger or faster. However, wands allowed witches and wizards to focus their magic to perform truly great spells!

At this point both boys were vibrating with excitement, and the adults, even Mad-Eye, had small smiles on their faces.

"Go on, hurry up and get ready. We'll be leaving in an hour and a half." James said as he gestured towards the castle with his golden hand.

The boys shot off, leaving the adults in their wake as they ran excitedly towards the looming castle. The sun was moving up behind the large castle and glistening off of the Channel that surrounded the fortress on three sides. Father said that their ancestors had resided here for almost 900 years, and that the castle had grown to it's current size slowly over the intervening centuries.

People said that Potter's Bluff, with it's harsh granite exterior, four floors, and three towers, wasn't as grand as Hogwarts. Harry didn't care about that, this was his home and he wouldn't have it any other way. There were other newly constructed buildings outside of the castle, these included two huge greenhouses that Neville seemed to haunt, and several workshops where the goods sold by Marauder's Incorporated were fabricated.

In minutes, the boys shot over the large moat, which was filled with red caps and kappas, and through the large oaken doors at the entrance of the castle. Taking a sharp right, as soon as they exited the richly appointed foyer, the duo faced a portrait of a Knight jousting with windmills and Neville said in flawless Spanish, "Yo sé quién soy y que puedo ser, si elijo." Harry still had a bit of an accent, and it was even odds whether the portrait would except the password if he said it.

Saluting the young wizards, the portrait promptly slid open to reveal a ladder. The boys hastily clamored up, as the portrait swung closed behind them. Moving with the surety that only familiarity bred, they soon reached their destination. Harry _tickled_ the back of a portrait and leapt out of the secret passage as the painting swung forward, quickly followed by Neville.

Now outside the fourth floor corridor of the North Wing, the section of the castle that had been allocated to Harry, Neville, and their younger siblings. They hurried to the hallway that housed the entrances to their doorway. Both boys had a statue that served as a guardian to their respective rooms.

With a happy nod, the boys separated and faced their stone guardians. Neville muttered something to the his Manticore and moved through his door. Harry turned to face the stone Chimera that guarded his sleeping chamber, the young parselmouth focused on the serpent that served as the beast's tail and hissed in Parseltongue, "_Fortune favors the bold!_". With a silent hissing motion the beast fluidly moved to the side allowing Harry access to the now visible door.

Quickly opening the door, Harry stepped into his room. The room featured a large comfortable bed, a wardrobe, a half empty bookcase,a desk and attendant chair, and a vanity with a talking mirror. All appointed stylishly in the Potter colors, scarlet and gold. The golden wallpaper was covered in most places by posters of the Weird Sisters, Puddlemere United, or the English National Quidditch team.

The room also had an amazing view of the morning sun as it rose over the Channel, usually Harry thought it annoying, since the sun's rays filtered through his curtains and served to wake him up at the crack of dawn every morning. Right now, Harry appreciated it's beauty, but he didn't have time to stand around. They were going to Diagon Alley!

Haphazardly undressing, Harry purposefully moved to the shower, turned the hot water on and immersed himself in the soothing spray as it washed away the dirt, grime, and sweat that he had accumulated during exercises that morning.

About ten minutes later, Harry jumped out of the shower and felt refreshed. On his bed, his wardrobe was already laid out for him. His best robes and undergarments were meticulously pressed and prepared. Tabby, the House Elf assigned to Harry and Neville always took pride in serving.

He got dressed and headed down to the dining room, Harry decided to take the normal passageways, since the secrets passages tended to be filled with dust and he didn't want to get his good clothes dirty. Normally he wouldn't have cared , but he wanted to show his parents that he was _responsible_.

Dad and Mad-Eye were already eating bacon, sausage, and eggs by the time that Harry arrived in the family dining family dining room was a comfortable room with a self enlarging table that comfortably accommodated any number of diners, though it was reserved for the Potters and their guests. He wordlessly sat down and began eating. The Ex-Aurors were discussing the Thirteen, an international alliance of dark wizards, who had been trying to infiltrate the British Wizarding community since Voldemort's fall, Harry found it all incredibly interesting.

Alice arrived a few moments later accompanied by Gideon and Rose, a fierce glare stopped all talk of dark wizards. Gideon had blonde hair, like Alice and Neville, but otherwise looked like Harry and his father James. Rose was like a copy of her mother, except she had James' brown eyes. They were fraternal twins, which was quite rare in the magical world. Neville trounced in a little later and dug in.

As soon as breakfast was over the food vanished.

Standing up James spoke, "Tabby, Greddy, Lyddy, Orry, Sanny, and Izzy!"

CRACK!

The Potter House Elves appeared out of thin air, and immediately bowed toward Lord Potter, obviously awaiting orders.

"Breakfast was brilliant, as usual." At James' words, the six House Elves literally _shivered_ with pleasure.

Smiling James continued, "Please Shift us to the Ward House, presently." Shifting was their name for the House Elves form of teleportation.

Eager to obey, each House Elf grabbed a witch or wizard, Sanny grabbed both Gideon and Rose. Suddenly, Harry felt a shifting sensation and he was in the Ward House, surrounded by his group and half a dozen Medjai, who had been waiting for their arrival.

Harry loved House Elves, but he _hated_ Shifting. He always got a dark suffocating feeling when travelling with the elves, as if something dark and twisted was binding him. At first he thought it was the elves, but as his senses sharpened, he realized the dark feeling was definitely _human_ in nature.

The Ward House gained it's name due to the fact that anyone who wanted to enter through Potter's Bluff's considerable wards had to pass through the small house at the edge of the wards, even House Elves couldn't Shift through here.

"Well done. Thank You." James gratitude again made the House Elves giddy. "Please carry on."

The House Elves popped away after the dismissal, and the group moved down a dark and narrow stone passage, towards a black door that seemed to eat the surrounding light and magic. James' golden hand held aloft _glimmered_ like a torch in the dark, provided ample light for them. Normally the golden hand gave off a sense of reserved strength, but when it shone like that, it seemed to sing to Harry. After James muttered the password and offered a strand of his hair to the door, the door swung open to reveal a waterfall.

In a single file line they passed through the streaming water and emerged completely dry into a well lit anteroom. Harry always felt purified after passing through the Thief's Fall, like some unknown taint had been washed off. The room had a large fireplace surrounded by a dozen suits of armor.

Three of the Medjai, clad in scarlet and gold battle robes, efficiently moved to the fireplace, grabbed the floo powder off the mantle, and threw it into the fireplace. One by one they moved calmly into the flames and said, "Marauder's Incorporated, Diagon Alley." Once the three bodyguards disappeared, they waited the standard thirty seconds and the fireplace's flames turned green once more.

One of the Medjai reappeared, everyone of the wands present was trained on him, and he lowered his shoufa. It appeared to be Hassan, his facial tattoos marking him as a warrior and commander among his people, and he said, "Voldemort was a bloody bastard." The adults relaxed at the password. Only Moody's wand remained trained on him, and even that lowered after another heartbeat.

Two of the remaining Medjai soon passed through the fireplace. Moody soon followed after. Then Harry was given some Floo Powder and shuffled to the fireplace, throwing the powder into the flames, Harry stepped into green flames and confidently said, "Marauder's Incorporated, Diagon Alley". He felt an uncomfortable spinning sensation and landed in the grate.

He was pulled to his feet by Moody and moved out of the way as Neville came clamoring out of the fireplace.

There was the soft popping sound of expert apparition, the guards immediately turned towards the sound with wands levelled. James and Alice had side-along apparated with Rose and Gideon. There was a quick identity verification via passwords, and wands were again lowered.

The remaining Medjai floo'd into the receiving room of the Marauder's Incorporated, Diagon Alley branch. The room was well appointed, though rather nondescript, the party moved out of the room and into the shop proper rather quickly, a team of three Medjai ranged ahead acting as scouts and a Vanguard of sorts.

The next room was the sales floor and it featured the wares that were available to the general public: brooms, potions, Comm-mirrors, robes, luggage, emergency portkeys, cauldrons, spell books, joke items, and much more. Some of the items may have been less flashy or not as renowned compared to their counterparts sold in the other shops of Diagon Alley, but they offered an affordable and reliable alternative. Judging by the staggering sales figures and the crowded sales floor, the Wizarding public appreciated the option.

The manager of the store, upon seeing his boss enter, made a beeline towards James and his entourage. The manager was a tiny man. Must have Goblin's blood, Harry thought. Marauder's Incorporated hired strictly based on merit, no weight was given to the so-called blood status of an applicant. In this manner, the company had grown exponentially in a very short amount of time. The talented, yet shunned, members of society often applied for positions within the company, giving the company a huge talent pool to draw from.

"Lord and Lady Potter what an unexpected pleasure!", the employee said with a precise courtier's bow. "Allow me a minute, and I will have the staff assembled for inspection." Harry knew that his dad liked to make random inspections of his properties to ensure that everything met his exacting standards.

"No need to disrupt business, I'm not here for an inspection, Filian. Just taking this lot out for a day in the Alley.", he said motioning with his golden hand at his wife and retinue .

Filian's eye's scanned the group, Harry would've sworn that the manager's eyes rested on him longer than the others, but soon the little man faced his employer as if nothing of consequence had occurred.

"Be welcome to Diagon Alley, sir.", Fillian's words were oddly formal and his bow seemed strangely reverent.

James replied with a few words in a harsh, inhuman language, that Harry was barely able to recognize as Gobbledegook. Fillian broke into a genuine smile and moved back into the shop, happily talking to patrons and barking orders at his subordinates.

They exited the crowded shop with little fanfare, the Medjai and Moody seemed to keep the more inquisitive customers at bay with glares and thousand yard stares.

Upon entering Diagon Alley proper, Harry's mind was overwhelmed, the magic he sensed seemed so vast and varied that his mind froze up. He had seen other wizarding shopping avenues, Route de la Magie in Paris had been opulent, Athens' ακρόπολη τρόπο had been exotic, but Diagon Alley was magical. The hustle and bustle, the flow of the crowd, the unique storefronts all seemed natural, and so very right. Employing his budding skills in Occlumency, he forced himself to focus and suppressed his overwhelmed Magical Awareness._ He was going to get a wand._

The group was moving again, Marauders Inc., was located near the Leaky Cauldron and they had to make their way through the alley to reach Ollivander's Wand Shop.

They stopped at Quality Quidditch Supplies and Harry and James ogled the new Clean Sweep Six broomstick. They spent a good deal of time in the store. Harry making a list of items he would buy when he was finally allowed to ride a broomstick, and his father making a few purchases.

Neville forced them to spend a great deal of time in Flourish and Blotts, where he bought a huge stack of books. Harry picked up a couple of books on defensive magic. Eventually their mother had to gently usher Neville out of the store, the boy put down a book entitled _Atlantis: Fact or Fiction_ as he was forced to leave.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was far too tempting to pass up on such a hot day. Harry devoured, a chocolate lava sundae, which had an actual erupting chocolate volcano that spewed out delicious syrup.

After they finished eating, they trudged through the alley intent upon Ollivander's, when an aged wizard, dressed in very fine blue robes, sporting a large handlebar mustache stepped into their path. His eye's, burning with a strange fervor, were all for Harry, the Medjai tried to jostle the interloper away, but he seemed glued to the spot.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Jeremiah Spriggs and it is the greatest honor to meet you! My Ophelia was only nineteen when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named murdered her! She was a writer and wrote some articles about him and his band of murders that he didn't like, so he killed her! Thank you for avenging her! Thank you for giving her Justice!" As he spoke, the old man fell to his knees and tears started flowing freely from his eyes.

Hassan, moving with feline grace, gently grabbed the man's arm and made to move him away and the old man reflexively resisted.

It was the saddest thing that Harry had ever seen in his young life, he had to do something, say something. This old wizard thought Harry was a hero, and Harry was sure that he didn't deserve the man's respect or admiration, for something he had done as a babe, something he couldn't even remember! Harry was also absolutely sure that he wanted to earn that respect, he would become worthy of such sentiment. He would be worthy of his mother's sacrifice and live up to being the miracle child, The-Boy-Who-Lived!

With that thought in mind, Harry straightened his back and _pushed_ magic into his voice. He had done it a couple of times on the Quidditch Pitch, so it wasn't hard.

"Hassan, let him go." Harry's voice sounded strange to his own ears, it sounded like his father's voice when he got really angry. Harry saw Hassan, send a discreet look at his father, and then withdraw his hand and take a step away, still poised for action. Harry took a step towards the broken old man, and suddenly he found Moody's dark cloak blocking his path.

The old auror pointed his wand at Mr. Spriggs and an orange light enveloped the wizard for a few seconds, Harry assumed it was detecting spell of some sort, since the spell felt like it was inquisitive in nature. Then a second red light, the Disarming Charm, struck Mr. Sprigg and his wand smoothly landed in Moody's hand. Apparently satisfied, Moody sidled out of the way, wand still at the ready. As Harry stepped past Mad-Eye, he wordlessly took possession of Jeremiah's wand and tucked it into his belt.

The crowd which had grown since the commotion had started, was motionless.

Reaching the still insensate man, Harry placed one of his small hands under the older man's chin and forced their eye's to meet. Magic and emotion lacing his voice Harry spoke.

"Mr. Spriggs, it has been _my_ great honor to meet you. Ophelia was a hero, anyone who had the courage to stand against Voldemort-" The crowd shuddered at the use of the forbidden name, but Harry continued on as if he didn't notice, placing his small hands under Jeremiah's armpits."- during those dark times has earned that title.

"His power has been broken, no wizard need kneel to another." With magic coursing through his body, Harry was easily able to help the wizard to his feet. The crowd inhaled a surprised breath, Mr. Spriggs towered over Harry.

Adroitly grabbing the wand from his belt, Harry presented it to Jeremiah. As the older wizard came back to himself, he took his wand from Harry with a grateful smile.

"If he ever returns, we will fight." Harry said raw emotion edging his voice.

Taking a step back Harry punched his fist into the air and roared, "For Ophelia Sprigg!"

And to little boy's surprise the crowd roared with him, wands stretched into the air in salute to a young woman who had died much too early at the hands of a murderous madman.

"For Ophelia Sprigg!"

"For The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

Every color imaginable issued from the assembled wands, and Harry thought fiercely,_ This is what I'm training for. This is what I'll kill for. This is what I'll die for. Anything to keep Voldemort from harming these people, from destroying this spirit._

It took five minutes for the crowd to disperse, and the Potter's were able to continue on. As they walked along the alley, the stares were still present, but they were more respectful.

By the time they reached Ollivander's it was nearing three. Stepping into the cool shop should have been a welcome relief, but Harry sensed the power of the place and the thousands of unchosen wands, stacked neatly in boxes lining the numerous shelves, seemed to shout for Harry's attention. Harry froze, this was a place of power, a place of great import. Here was a place that was a fulcrum for the entire world.

James' placed his golden hand on Harry's shoulder reassuringly, and a sense of peace and reassurance flooded through him, wistfully he thought he could hear a half remembered song playing through his mind. Shaking himself, Harry moved forward and James removed his hand.

Harry was joined in the store by his parents, his brother, and Mad-Eye. Rose and Gideon had been taken to Zonko's, apparently they were too young for Ollivander's. A very old wizard who seemed to carry the mystical and arcane about himself like a cloak, came out to meet them.

"Ah Lord Potter, it has been almost seven years, has it not. Ash and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches and quite powerful , if I do say so myself." He cast his eyes on Alice and continued, "Lady Potter, a pleasure to see you after so many years, Cherry wood with a rather magnificent Unicorn's tail hair, eleven and a half inches, quite good for defensive work. Alastor, Pine and a Griffin feather 12 inches, unusual combination, but good for Duelling I should say.

"What may I do for you fine folks, perhaps you need a cleaning kit or a new wand holster?",Ollivander inquired.

"No, we're here to get the boys' wands. They're beginning formal tutelage under Alastor.", James said as Alastor pulled a scroll with a golden Ministry seal affixed to it, from a rather hard to notice pouch, and handed it to Ollivander.

The Wandmaker broke the seal and began scrutinizing the document, he read it and re-read it over a dozen times. Looking up, apparently satisfied with his contents he said, "This is irregular, most irregular, however all the paperwork is in order, so lets as they say, 'Get the show on the road'." He carefully rolled the scroll back up and with a clap of his hands the scroll disappeared.

Then the wizened propreitor turned towards the boys, his eyes unmistakably pausing on Harry's scar, motioned to a pair of stools near the shops window saying, "If you would Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter. We'll get you sorted out " He seemed to want to say more, but with a quick glance at the older Potter's he carried on.

The brothers stood on the stools as a pair of tape measures worked furiously measuring every inch of the pair, even in between their eyebrows!. Harry felt magic in the odd ritual, it was similar to the detecting spell that Moody, but it seemed to reach _deeper_ inside you, to the core.

Soon Ollivander called a halt to the measuring tapes and proceeded to hand Neville a series of wands, after receiving each wand Neville would give a quick flick. A few minutes and about ten wands later, Neville was given a cherry wand with a unicorn hair. With a flick of his wrist, the wand emitted scarlet and bronze sparks. Harry sensed the sparks before they burst forth, and it felt like a wonderful puzzle had been completed, as if Neville had found something that he had missing his entire life.

A look of amazement crossed Neville's features, and James led everybody in a raucous round of applause.

"Very well done my lad. Now please have a seat with your parents.", said Ollivander with glee.

Harry found himself being handed wand after wand, none of them felt right and they were snatched from his hand by the ever more excited wizard. They had reached about fifty wands when Harry started to panic, maybe his abilities would keep him from being chosen.

"I wonder… Yes that must be it!", muttered Ollivander before he went into the back of his shop. The sound of shuffling boxes and rolling wheels could be heard, before he returned holding a dusty box.

"Here we are my boy, Holly and Phoenix feather eleven inches, very supple." Ollivander said proudly, as if he was introducing a newborn babe.

Showing great care Ollivander handed the wand to Harry.

When the wood met his sweaty palm, Harry felt _something_ move inside him. Harry didn't know how he had lived without this feeling, he felt complete.

Giving the wand a perfunctory wave, dazzling white and gold sparks issued from its tip. Everyone applauded vigorously, except Ollivander, his calculating gaze remained on young Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I have told you that your wand has a phoenix feather as a core. What I have not told you, is that, that particular phoenix only ever gave one other tail feather. That feather ended up forming the core of the wand that gave you that scar!." Ollivander said gravely.

Harry stomach plummeted and he looked at his wand as if it was a traitor, did this mean that Harry was destined to be evil like Voldemort? The intake of air from the other side of the room told Harry that the others were just as shocked. The old wizard continued on, as if to himself.

"Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great." Ollivander finally finished speaking.

The words seemed to take forever to sink into Harry's mind, but when they did Harry felt a stab of hope.

"Sir, my wands not evil, is it?", Harry asked.

"Evil? Merlin! No my boy, while wands do choose their master, it is the master who chooses what to do with the wand." Ollivander said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, maybe it was, but Harry still felt an enormous amount of relief as he gripped his wand.

James and Ollivander began speaking and Harry drifted into his own world thinking about what he would do with his wand. Ollivander had said _Voldemort did great things, didn't he? Well I'll do great things too, but they won't be terrible!_

They walked out 212 galleons and three sickles lighter, though James had insisted that both boys receive wrist holsters, remarking that, "His holster had saved his life more times than he could count!"

Looking back on the day Harry would realize it was the first day of the rest of his life.

**A/N: Not every chapter can be a crazy duel but I hope you guys enjoyed Harry's jaunt into Diagon Alley**


	3. Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

**A/N: I still don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter 2**

**Hoggy Warty Hogwarts**

Hermione Granger was facing a brick wall between the bustling platforms Nine and Ten, and she was feeling a little nervous. She had just said farewell to her parents and she remembered that Professor McGonagall had instructed her to run at the wall-which-wasn't-really-a-wall. On the other side, she was supposed to find the Platform Nine and Three Quarters and the Hogwarts Express, which _Hogwarts, A History _said had been in use since 1849. Somewhere in her mind she feared that this all had been an elaborate prank, so she cast her thoughts back to the events that had led her here.

About a month earlier, a rather severe looking Scottish woman had shown up at the Granger home in London, with a letter of invitation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the finest school of magic in the world. The woman introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of the school, and to counter the Granger's skepticism, promptly transfigured their couch into a rather fine looking lion. Seeing the look of awe and excitement on Hermione's face, the Granger's, after a lengthy interrogation of the witch, accepted the invitation. Hermione Granger was a witch and would be learning magic!

After that, the summer _flew _by, the astonishing trip to Diagon Alley was fascinating, culminating with Hermione receiving her wand, 10¾" vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core! She spent the rest of her summer reading her new books, practicing wand movements, and trying to perfect her pronunciation of the various incantations. She exercised her impressive memory to memorize all of the year's books, and started to read about the culture that she was soon to join.

Before she knew it, September 1st had come. Her parents had arrange for a Hackney to come by the house and then loaded her trunk into the boot at the back of the car. They then set off for King's Cross. After a 25 minute drive they had come to their destination. Upon reaching the train station, Mr. Granger had found a trolley and with the driver's assistance was able to wrestle the heavy trunk on to the trolley.

King's Cross Station was a hive of activity as people bustled about their daily commute. The September morning was hot and humid. Hermione Granger, bushy hair frizzing in the heat small bag draped over her shoulder, trailed after her father while he pulled her trunk behind him on a trolley. The trunk appeared as normal as the man who was pulling it, however its contents were distinctly _abnormal_, with items like quills, parchments, spell books, robes, and potions ingredients neatly organized within its confines.

Coming back to the present, Hermione steeled herself and sprinted towards the wall, Magic was _real_ and she was going to a magical school. A place where the other children didn't make fun of you for being smart! Resolving to keep her eyes open, she passed _through_ the barrier and saw a fabulous scarlet train. Sitting beside the magnificent train was a platform about half filled with children and their parents.

Hermione decided to find a compartment quickly. Weaving through the throng of students, parents and owls, Hermione navigated her trolley to the middle of the train, next to a red haired girl and a serious looking woman.

She tried to pick up her trunk, but she was amazed by its weight. The trunk outweighed her! The first thing she was going to learn at Hogwarts was the Levitation charm! For a few more moments she struggled vainly. Then giving up, she decided to go find a Prefect to help her. Before she could take a step a voice from her side caught her attention.

"Would you like a hand with that, dear?" said a square-jawed witch with close-cropped gray hair.

"I wouldn't want to be a bother, Ma'am." Hermione replied, inwardly thankful that someone was willing to help her. Remembering herself, she hurriedly introduced herself. "Forgive me, I'm Hermione Granger."

"No trouble at all. My name is Amelia Bones and this is, my niece, Susan." She said briskly, gesturing at the red haired girl at her elbow. "I'll put you in with Susan, if that's all right?" At Hermione's mute nod, the older witch produced a wand, with a precise swish and flick the offending trunk floated off the ground. Hermione and the red haired girl, Susan, Hermione supposed, followed her on to the train and into a very well appointed compartment. The trunk glided to rest next to Susan's luggage and a handsome barn owl.

"Well, I think I'll leave you young ladies to get to know one another. Susan have a good year, I'll see you at Christmas. And remember I expect an owl this evening." She moved over to give Susan a hug and a kiss on the forehead. She left after giving Hermione a nod.

After Susan's Aunt left, there was a few minutes of awkward silence between the girls. Neither knew quite what to say to one another. Susan was a pretty girl who wore her red hair in a plait down her back and had an easy open smile. Hermione felt a bit ungainly with her bushy hair and large front teeth.

Not for the first time Hermione wished there was a book, or pamphlet at least, that told you how to make friends! As Hermione always did in such situations, she pulled a book out of her bag and started reading. Squashing the feeling of inadequacy that rushed through her, she dove into _Hogwarts, A History._

After an indeterminate amount of time, the compartment door opened and Hermione glanced up at the newcomer. Standing in the opening was an olive skinned girl, who had dark black hair held back by a jade headband. She was very pretty, the word that came to Hermione's mind was aristocratic.

A moment later, Susan jumped up, squealing, and embraced the girl. After the brief hug, Susan said, "Karina, it's been, too long! You didn't write me back after my last owl."

"I've been doing well, just got back from Brazil. Went on a big family vacation." She said, and Hermione would have been impressed, she had always wanted to go to Latin America, if it weren't for the fact that Karina's teeth were glowing a ghastly fluorescent green.

A choking gasp from Susan, let Hermione know that the other girl saw the enchanted.

"What happened to your teeth? They're _green_." Susan said aghast.

"Come off it. What in blazes are you talking about?" She opened her bag and pulled out a mirror about the size of a palm. Looking into the mirror, she seemed to take a second to register what she was seeing, then she dropped the mirror and screamed. Susan attempted to soothe her.

Hermione caught the mirror as it fell, seven years bad luck and all, and not wanting to gawk at the emotional girl began inspecting it. The mirror side had _Comm-Mirror 2.0_ emblazoned on its top in gold letters that followed the curve of the circle. A pair of dials were affixed to the right side, and a strange crystal curved along the left hand side. Flipping it over, she noticed a piece of parchment unobtrusively Spell-O-Taped to the back of the mirror.

"Umm… there's something taped to the back of your mirror." Hermione said, feeling unaccountably meek.

For a second both girls looked at her, and then Karina's eyes lit up with anger, and she roughly took the mirror back. Then she tore the parchment free, and unfolded it and began to read. By the time she was done, she was shaking with anger.

"The-Bloody-Git-Who-Lived thought it would be a great going away present, I suppose." She fumed, Hermione was a little taken aback by her language. "I don't know how the prat did it, but as soon as Dad said goodbye on the platform, I felt an itching in my mouth, and this is the result." She said more than a little despondent. Hermione was going to introduce herself, and then suggest going to the Prefects for help. That was what they were there for, after all.

Susan's mind seemed to be going on a different tangent, as a small frown marred her pretty features.

"A going away present? Is Harry not coming to Hogwarts?" Susan sounded more than a little worried, maybe this Harry was a friend of hers? Then it hit her. _She was stupid!_ They were talking about _Harry Potter_, The-Boy-Who-Lived. She had read all about him! He was in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_. They said he was a great wizard who had cast down the most feared wizard in history, at the tender age of one!

Before answering, Karina cast an inquisitive glance at Hermione, her eyes straying to the book in Hermione's lap. Feeling a bit unnerved, Hermione got to her feet and decided to introduce herself.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you." Hermione said all of this very quickly, and extended her hand.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Karina Black. By the way, are you muggleborn?" She said politely, and shook the proffered hand.

"Why yes, I am. My Parents are both Dentists. Why do you ask?" She said, as all three girls took their seats. Karina's trunk ambled past on little legs, and vaulted into the storage space above where Black sat. Susan was reading the parchment and trying not to laugh.

"Well, I saw that you looked very comfortable in muggle style clothes, didn't recognize your family name, and that you had _Hogwarts, A History_, one of my favorite books, out. I was curious what kind of perspective a muggleborn would have on the book." Karina said with sincerity.

Suddenly, Hermione very much liked the girl. Hermione could talk about _books_ forever and the girl seemed to be genuinely interested. As Hermione was about to jump into an in depth explanation on the book and how informative it was, Susan cleared her throat loudly and glared at Karina.

"Oh alright Susan, don't get your knickers in a twist!" she declared with exasperation, "Hermione, what I'm about to say is private, can you keep it a secret?" Hermione nodded vigorously, she all ways wanted to be let in on a secret, but the girls at her old school hadn't liked her much. Consequently, she had never been more than acquaintances with them. Taking a deep calming breath and lowering her voice, Karina spoke.

"Harry won't be coming to Hogwarts this year, maybe he'll come before the OWLs in fifth year, but he's definitely planning on continuing his private studies abroad for at least the next couple years". Hermione recognized the word OWLs, as the Ordinary Wizarding Levels, tests that helped to decide your future in the wizarding world. She also thought that Harry must be _wealthy_, private studies abroad sounded very expensive!

"Everyone knows that Harry's dad and Dumbledore had a falling out after the war, but what most people don't know is how deep the divide goes. Apparently, he's loathe to put Harry under Dumbledore's power for any reason, whatsoever."

As the girls sat in silence digesting the information, the train lurched into motion.

Both James Potter and Albus Dumbledore were heroic figures from her books. The former was a famed Auror during the war, afterwards he became the leading voice for reform in the society and had founded the very successful Marauder's INC, though he was labelled a radical for his unyielding devotion to reform. Albus Dumbledore was a living legend whose exploits spanned the century, he was universally proclaimed as the greatest living wizard and the only wizard that Voldemort had ever feared. Both had been Gryffindors and were the leading reasons why Hermione wanted to join the house of the brave. To hear of discord between the two paragons was terribly disconcerting.

After a few minutes, Hermione spoke up, determined to rescue the mood.

"Karina, would you like to head up to the Prefects car? I'm sure one of them can help you out."

"Brilliant! Want to come along, Susan?" Karina said, addressing the still frowning girl.

"No I'm good. I might as well follow Hermione's example and do a little reading before we reach Hogwarts." She said, seeming a little melancholy.

"Okay, suit yourself." She said, getting up to exit the compartment. Hermione followed Karina out and closed the door behind her.

As the door closed, Karina said, "Don't worry about Susan, she's had a crush on Harry for ages. Him not coming to Hogwarts, throws a Chimera into her wedding plans, I guess." Hermione not knowing what to say, just shrugged.

The walk to the Prefect's carriage at the front of the train was filled with a light discussion about the subjects offered at Hogwarts. Hermione was looking forward to Transfiguration the most, she fairly idolized Professor McGonagall, while Karina was excited to learn Charms.

Upon reaching the Prefects carriage, Hermione walked forward and opened the door. Hermione _liked_ helping people, especially people she considered friends. Heading towards a dark haired boy with a Prefect's badge in Gryffindor colors, she spoke.

"Good morning, I was hoping that you might help my friend, Karina Black, out. Some rapscallion has changed her teeth into this awful shade of green!" She was talking very quickly again.

The Prefect's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Karina with a nasty expression, as if something horrid had entered his presence.

"Black? Well, 'bout bloody time someone gave one of you dark blighters your due, now piss off." The rude Gryffindor finished with a sneer and turned back to his friends.

Karina had gone very still, color draining out of her olive complexion. Hermione felt anger and confusion boiling inside of her, people in positions of authority were supposed to _help_. She had heard stories about authority figures misusing their power, but had never actually experienced it. She didn't like it, not one bit.

"Excuse me!" The prefect turned around at Hermione's words, now truly irritated. "Karina has done no wrong to you, and per section C, Chapter 10, paragraph 3 of the Hogwarts Charter 'Prefects shall render assistance to any student in distress regardless of personal feelings'. I demand that you apologize and do your utmost to assist her!" Hermione finished in a rush. The Prefect gave her a long piercing look and then shook his slightly.

"Muggleborn, right?" Hermione wondered if she had a sign that said 'I'M A MUGGLEBORN' on her forehead, in any case the Prefect didn't pause to let her answer. "You probably didn't know that the Blacks are as dark as they come, have been for centuries. Bellatrix Lestrange was born a Black, and she was one of the worst Death Eater's. They'd sooner curse a muggleborn than shake their hand. All of 'em were in Slytherin and served You-Know-Who, besides Sirius Black and I reckon he's the exception that proves the rule." Karina was going paler by the second. "I'd be careful if I was you, the Blacks were renowned for their cruelty, and Muggleborns suffered the worst of all." With those words he returned to his game of chess.

Feeling immeasurably wronged, Hermione glanced at Karina. Gone was the self-assured girl who had ranted about Harry Potter, she seemed cowed. The girl was looking down at the ground and seemed on the verge of tears! Anger and desperation dueled inside of her, there had to be something she could do!

"My name is Hermione Granger! This is my friend Karina Black, I don't care if her family was dark! She has been a good and true friend since I met her. Are there any Prefects willing to perform their duties and assist a student in need?" She fairly shouted the words.

A girl with blonde curly hair got up and moved toward them, as she got closer Hermione could make out the blue and bronze of Ravenclaw.

"I'm Penelope Clearwater, the fifth year Ravenclaw prefect, I apologize on behalf of the Hogwarts Prefects, and this dunderhead here." Her tone was formal and apologetic, with not a little spite directed at the Gryffindor prefect. "How may I help you?" Escorting them to a secluded area of the carriage, away from the Gryffindor prefect.

Hermione told her about Karina's teeth and prodded the girl to open her mouth, which she did hesitantly. Three spells later the young girl's teeth were back to normal. They thanked the Penelope and left. As they left they heard shouting coming from the door as it was closing, then the noise abruptly died down. Gryffindor didn't seem so amazing at the moment.

Silently they made their way back to the compartment, both girls seemingly lost in thought. At least Karina had recovered some of her color.

They opened the compartment to find Susan surrounded by a veritable mountain of strange candies, happily munching on a Chocolate Frog. Hermione and Karina looked at her in astonishment.

"I was feeling famished, and I knew Hermione couldn't of had much exposure to our candy, so I got a little bit of everything." Susan said in explanation. Hermione thought it was very thoughtful gesture, and just what Karina needed after the ordeal in the Prefect's carriage.

The girls set about demolishing the pile of sweets. They chatted amicably about their differing cultures. Susan and Karina talked at length about Magical Britain, of special note was the fact that her Aunt Amelia was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and that Karina's father was the Head of the Auror Division, the third youngest in history. Karina talked about Grecian culture and how it differed from Britain, apparently she had only moved to Britain three years ago. Hermione chimed in with questions when they seemed prudent, she found it all terribly interesting. She also talked at length about the muggle world, and both Pureblood witches seemed completely ignorant of their non-magical counterparts.

Sometimes Karina would look out at the lush scenery as it rushed by and a forlorn look would cross her features, but on the whole the girl seemed to be getting over the incident.

As the girls were finishing off the stack of delectable treats the door slid open and in stepped a blonde boy, dressed in finely crafted robes and sporting a look of interest on his handsome features he was shadowed by a pair of huge boys who could've passed for Trolls. His calculating gaze swept the compartment, seeming to weigh and measure every detail in an instant.

"Ah, Karina Black, Susan Bones" He said with a crisp bow in their direction, Hermione didn't seem to warrant his attention. "I've got a much better compartment up forward, all of the best sort are there. No need for us to mix with the rabble." When he said rabble, there was no question that he meant Hermione.

"Draco Malfoy, I think we can sort the best sort out for ourselves." Karina said in a falsely sweet voice. Susan nodded at her words. "We prefer the compartment and company of our choice, thank you."

For a moment, Draco's chivalrous mask broke and Hermione could see a mixture of confusion and anger playing on his features. Apparently, he wasn't used to being rebuffed, and he didn't like the feeling. Then his smile transformed into a vicious smirk.

"Father said both of you were blood traitors." The air seemed to gain a new tension at his words, and then he disdainfully gestured towards Susan and said, "I can believe it of you Bones, your family's been a disgrace for generation, but the Blacks have long been a beacon of Pureblood pride. Your ancestors would roll over in their grave if they could see you, a Black consorting with a Mudblood! Apparently, your meddling father has managed to corrupt the line!" He finished with a haughty look of disdain, how Hermione had ever thought the boy handsome, she'd never know. Unlike with the verbal assault from the Prefect earlier, Karina seemed to be up for a fight, she rose to her feet, face like a thunderhead. Susan and Hermione followed suit, Hermione's hand going to her wand, her mind racing for any spells that she could use.

"_Malfoy_, I'll _consort_ with whomever I please, and to hell with your Pureblood bullshit! Speaking of fathers, my father may be a meddler, though I like to think of him as an agent who puts Death Eater scum in Azkaban, but at least he wasn't _weak_ enough to be _dominated_ by another wizard for four years." Draco had been growing more furious and by the end of Karina's diatribe his gaze was deadly cold.

Then his hand blurred and his wand pointed at Karina. And in a fluid motion he flicked his wand and said, "Furnunculus!" Immediately followed by blasts of green and purple light from Troll One and Troll Two's wands.

At the same time, _Karina's_ wand was instantly in her hand and she was shouting, "Scuto!"

The three were spells seemed to stretch and strain the orange shield, two of the spells were absorbed into the shield, Malfoy's spell rebounded, and he dodged to the left as the spell smashed into Troll Number One on his right, who promptly grabbed his face, started screaming, and ran into the hallway. The shield collapsed, Karina looked winded and Susan and Hermione took aim and released their own spells.

"Locomotor Wibbly!" A red light issued from Susan's wand and raced towards Malfoy. The Blonde boy nimbly dodged the spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Nervously Hermione enunciated the words and moved her wand in the prescribed manner. Her spell hit Troll Number Two and, Hermione felt a rush of elation as the boy, who had been aiming his wand at Karina, fell into the hallway, frozen.

Malfoy, seeing that he was outnumbered, shouted "Munitissimus Clypeus!"

An opaque silver mist sprang up between him and the girls, and he made a run for it. The girls cast several spells that seemed to have little effect, besides making the mist cloudier. The prat and his shield were able to withdraw. All three girls were flushed from the encounter. While he was running away, all Hermione could think was, that a Prefect would be around shortly to expel the girls for getting in a duel before they had even been sorted!

Susan strode over and closed the door, then pointing her wand at the door and said, "Caulaportus".

Nothing happened, and Susan looked chagrined.

Hermione had practiced the incantation and the wand motion, so she walked over and with a complex movement of her wand said, "Colloportus!" The door sealed itself with an odd squelching sound.

Hermione turned to see both pureblooded witches staring at her, they noticed her tension and Karina said soothingly, "Don't worry Hermione, I'm sure those three won't want to tell anybody about getting walloped by a pair of blood traitors and a muggleborn."

"I thought muggleborns couldn't practice magic before they got to Hogwarts?" Susan said with audible curiosity.

"Oh, this is the first time I actually cast magic. During the summer I practiced the pronunciations and the wand movements, of course! Both you and Karina did very well yourselves, and those wretches seemed to know what they were about, too." As Hermione spoke, Karina and Susan shared a dumbfounded look.

"Hermione, Susan and I have been receiving tutoring over the summer, and from the looks of things Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle have been at it even longer." Karina _looked_ at Hermione, and she understood a little of what the girl was saying. "For you to cast those spells successfully on your first attempt is amazing, you're a genius!"

Hermione beamed at both girls, her nerves easing since neither girl was worried about being expelled, then asked, "What was all that about?"

What followed was a _long_ discussion about the Pureblood Movement, the defining issue of British Wizarding politics.

Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was the de facto leader of the movement, whose aim was to cleanse or subjugate the magical world's muggleborns, magical beings, and other _creatures_ that could cause harm to the society. In the war, Voldemort, who's beliefs had been in line with the Movement's, had drawn funds and followers from the largesse of this elite and wealthy community. After his fall, many of his known followers had filtered back into the Pureblood society by claiming that they had been under the Unforgivable Imperius Curse. Lucius Malfoy was the most prominent and successful wizard to have done so.

Albus Dumbledore led the largest faction to oppose the Pureblood Movement, and they were called the Moderates. The Moderates had less money than the Movement, but their numbers advantage allowed them a great deal of strength. They pushed for slow and steady reform of wizarding laws to a more equitable state, with mixed results. Both Karina's Father and Susan's Aunt were loosely allied to the Moderates.

The third notable party was the Reform Party, led by Karina's Godfather, James Potter. The war hero was both incredibly famous and fabulously wealthy, he had survived a duel with Voldemort prior to the Dark Lord's defeat by James' son, and he claimed that the Dark Lord was not dead. That he had seen the dark wizard's wraith flee. Mr. Potter said that everything he did was to prevent, or failing that, prepare for his return. Many viewed James Potter as a fear monger, a demagogue, a radical, and a firebrand, but no one questioned his courage, conviction, or capability.

The Reformers espoused an agenda of equal rights for all magical beings, the construction of a wizarding prison in the mold of Nurmengard and the destruction of Azkaban, the sequestering of Dementors behind powerful wards, the lowering of tariffs on international goods, a complete restructuring of the government to a more democratic model, and the opening of more solid relations with muggles. The Party had a small base of support within the traditional wizarding world, but they drew a great deal of support from muggleborns and the disparate magical beings of the world. More surprising was their ability to match, and even exceed, the funds of the Movement, which had been evidenced when Potter won a bidding war against Malfoy for the Daily Prophet. Hermione was rather taken with their whole agenda. Both Susan and Karina expressed a genuine admiration for their agenda, but admitted that their goals were too lofty to be practical, in the current climate, the reason that their guardians supported the Moderates.

As their conversation died down, the Hogwarts Express stopped, surprised by how much time had passed they hastily pulled on their Hogwarts robes. With a quick flick of her wand and an "Alohamora!" Hermione unlocked the compartment and they headed outside to the awaiting platform, leaving the trunks behind.

"Firs' years this way!" Roared the biggest man Hermione had ever seen in her life. The man must have stood twice as tall as an average man, perhaps eleven and a half feet in height, and three times as wide, with a long shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face. He wore an exceptionally large moleskin overcoat and was carrying a huge lantern in his enormous hands.

Susan and Karina giggled at Hermione's surprise. In between their giggles Susan managed, "Hagrid, Half-Giant, Groundskeeper"

"Firs' years this way!" Hagrid thundered.

The new students followed the Half-Giant down to the edge of the Black Lake and shuffled into small boats, four per boat. The girls were joined in their boat by a pin-faced girl who introduced herself as Hannah Abbot. The girls all started giggling and gossiping.

After a few minutes aboard, silence fell over the lake as Hogwarts came into view. Hermione thought it was easily the most magnificent sight she had ever seen! A huge stone building, seven floors tall with towers jutting from impossible angles, the place fairly reeked of magic. Candle illuminated the windows and reflected of the mirror-like surface of the Black Lake, giving the illusion of a second castle below the surface. _13 Wonders of the Magical World and Where to Find Them,_ had listed Hogwarts as one of its foremost wonders, and Hermione couldn't help but agree.

The journey ended and the first years stumbled out of their boats and up to the castle proper, behind Mount Hagrid. The jaunt took a few minutes and then they were at the imposing black doors of the castle.

As they came into the Entrance Hall, Hermione was further astonished. The entrance hall was huge, you could have fit a suburban house into it, with plenty of room to spare. The stone walls were lined with _moving_ portraits lit with flaming torches in their sconces, and the magnificent marble Grand Staircase facing them led upwards into the upper reaches of the school, lost with the ceiling as it climbed ever upward.

In the Chamber of reception, they were talked to sternly by Professor McGonagall about the general rules and guidelines of Hogwarts. Hermione paid attention, looking for any kernel of knowledge that she did not already possess. Then she left them to prepare for the Sorting.

While the Deputy Headmistress was gone, a red haired boy remarked about fighting a Troll and Draco Malfoy boasted about going into Slytherin. Karina was very quiet, she seemed to be lost in a world all her own.

Upon the Professor's return, they were led into the Great Hall. Hermione had thought she had used up her allotment of wonder for the day, but she was wrong.

Strange and splendid, the Great Hall was lit by thousands of candles that were floating in midair over the four long house tables, where the rest of the student body sat. At the top of the hall was another long table where the professors sat, Albus Dumbledore, recognizable from his Chocolate Frog card, sat in a throne-like chair cheerily smiling at the new students. Hermione looked up and was unsurprised to see the charmed ceiling projecting a velvety black night filled with gleaming stars.

As they neared the Staff's table, Hermione noticed a rather dingy looking hat sitting on a stool.

They came to a stop and the hat began to _sing._

_We're going to be Sorted by a hat!_ Hermione thought surprised, _Hogwarts, A History_ had simply said they were sorted by an ancient and powerful magical artifact created by Godric Gryffindor himself. It had failed to mention that the artifact was a singing hat!

After its song, Professor McGonagall stepped forward and called, "Abbot, Hannah"

The young girl bustled toward the hat, picked it up, sat down, and placed the old hat on her head. A few moments later the Hat shouted: "HUFFLEPUFF!" There were applause from the Hufflepuff table.

"Black, Karina"

Karina approached the hat nervously, as if it were a snake waiting to strike. Faint whispers followed as she walked. Finally she sat down pulling the hat on to her head. And they waited, for at least five solid minutes, the whispers had turned to mutters as the Hat said: "RAVENCLAW!"

Karina took the hat off, looking relieved and walked over to the Ravenclaw table where they were applauding in a halfhearted manner.

"Bones, Susan"

Susan's sorting took quite a bit of time as well, then it was off to the Ravenclaw table and a seat next to Karina. Terry Boot soon joined her at the table.

Hermione began making a mental list of the sorted students as she waited for her name to be called:

Lavender Brown, Gryffindor; Mandy Brocklehurst, HufflePuff; Millicent Bulstrode, Slytherin; Michael Corner, Gryffindor; Vincent Crabbe, Slytherin; Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff; Seamus Finnigan, Gryffindor; Anthony Goldstein, Gryffindor; Gregory Goyle, Slytherin.

"Granger, Hermione"

Hermione gathered herself and walked over to the hat and sitting down put the hat on.

_"An extraordinary mind, I see."_ Said a voice that echoed from within her head. _"Loads of courage, a healthy drive to succeed, and a willingness to work hard when hard work is needed. You present me with quite a conundrum! You would do well as a lion, snake, badger, or raven, what house would you choose?"_

Hermione first instinctive thought was Gryffindor: the house of the great Albus Dumbledore, fierce James Potter, and the strict but fair Professor McGonagall. But also the house of that prig prefect and the infamous traitor Peter Pettigrew. Shying away from that thought, she pictured her _friends_ in Ravenclaw—

"RAVENCLAW!"

She took the hat off and walked to her new table amidst the applause from her house. Taking a seat next to Karina, she had the amazing feeling of arriving at home.


	4. Egyptian Escapades

**Chapter 3**

**Egyptian Escapades**

Apophis' Necropolis outside Alexandria was a sobering experience for Neville,_ Dark Lords: An in Depth Study_ had told the story of the Necropolis.

50,000 ancient muggles had been systematically sacrificed to feed the protections of the Necropolis and the power of its dread lord Apophis. It was one of the most horrendous tales of Dark Magic in history. The dark wizard had been the first recorded Dark Lord in history, and incidentally a Parselmouth. He had led a war that had ravaged the Near East and Africa for thirty years until, the famed wizard Ra had rallied an army to oppose the dark lord. Apohis' dark forces had been defeated and he had been mortally wounded in single battle against Ra, and rushed inside the Necropolis, attempting to save himself with a ritual of his own inception. Instead, the ritual failed and Apophis became the world's first Inferi.

The book had continued on to say that even 6,000 years later, the dark protections still persisted. Curse Breakers from all over the world were actively trying to penetrate the Necropolis, looking for fabled treasures and the secrets of Apophis.

Books were one thing, but the reality had been another thing entirely. Bill Weasley and a team of his fellow Curse Breakers had led Neville, Harry, Moony, Mad-Eye, and an escort of eight Medjai through the dark twisting tunnels to a set of wards that had yet to be breached. Torches cast shadows that seemed to twist and undulate casting impossible shadowy monstrosities against the sandstone walls. There was an aura of _wrongness_ about the place, it seemed to reverberate through the halls.

Neville had felt incredibly sick just being near the dark wards, Harry _had_ been sick, twice. The Curse Breakers had been down here for close to _two weeks_ making preparations for the day's effort, the young boy didn't want to think about how _they_ had dealt with overwhelming feeling of dread and despair. It was no wonder that they had been terse on the journey down. Moody had remarked that it was past time that the young men finally got a glimpse of the true Dark Arts.

What had followed was a lesson in professional Curse Breaking, the Curse Breakers had moved precisely working in tandem, meticulously casting diagnostic charms. They had painstakingly inscribed in incredibly complex system of runes on the ceiling, floor and two walls of the corridor. Neville recognized that the runic array seemed to conform to certain principles of both Arithmancy and Alchemy, specifically the properties of prediction and change. Once satisfied that everything was in order, Bill had brought forth seven bricks of pure silver and sat them at precise positions in the array, in what the Curse Breakers called Ward Clusters.

As soon as Bill withdrew, half of the wizards present had cast shield charms and the other half had begun a magical assault on the wards. The ancient wards fought back, unleashing bolts of black lightning and razor sharp gusts of wind. But the counterstrokes never reached the wizards, instead they were drawn _into_ the bricks of silver. The wizards stopped provoking the wards, yet the dark energy still poured into the bricks. After thirty minutes, the ward seemed to be weakening and the Curse Breakers had begun chanting in a Nordic language. The ward gave one last shudder and collapsed, its death knell sounded unmistakably like the shrieking of a dying person.

Immediately, the Curse Breakers set about casting even more diagnostic spells and carefully levitated the now blackened and cursed silver bricks into specially warded boxes. Then the group headed back toward the surface, now that the curse breaking lesson was over.

They had decided to take an alternate route to the surface, when Moody called a halt and gestured toward an ominous ivory statue of a huge snake encircling the world.

"Something's wrong with that. Can't tell exactly what. It's Dark though." He said in a clipped tone, his wand trained on the statue.

Tension rose in the group. This corridor had been examined by some of the best Curse Breakers in the world, and they had thought it clear enough to bring civilians in. If it took the fabled Eye of Horus to even notice it, then it was definitely something that shouldn't be approached cavalierly.

"I think it would be prudent to take the other exit, we'll come back down once the boys are evacuated." Moony said.

"Wait, I've got an idea!" Harry spoke loudly, but the adults ignored him.

"Remus has the right of it. Move. Now." Moody nodded toward the corridor behind them

As the group began backpedalling, Harry moved forward, smoothly dodging the grasp of Moony and Hassan. He came to a stop facing the statue.

"_Hasha shah ssi_" As soon as Harry spoke, Neville recognized the Parseltongue immediately. Neville had been present when Harry had discovered his ability. They had been in one of the greenhouses at Potter's Bluff, when Harry had struck up a conversation with a garden snake. He had also heard the snake-language countless times as Harry spoke to the Chimera guardian outside his bedroom.

Mad-Eye had made to grab at Harry, but the statue had disappeared into the ground, revealing a staircase, and his hand stopped in midair. The rest of the group had halted and were preparing for action.

"Listen here Potter. This isn't some adventure from one of your stories, people die down here. The rotten bastard who made this place was one of the darkest buggers in history. I thought that the Curse Breaking would have shown you the true nature of this place, but you still behave like an impetuous child." The ex-Auror was furious, his hand clenched around his wand.

Harry turned towards Mad-Eye and he had assumed _The Look_.

Normally Harry was an easy going prankster, who took delight in making people laugh. And he was a biddable student, learning everything his tutors had to teach him with enthusiasm. Despite his amazing magical skills, it was easy to forget that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived.

But when he thought something was serious enough, or some injustice was occurring, his whole easy going façade would disappear. His entire expression would harden, his posture would become dangerously loose, and his voice would seem to echo with power.

Neville had seen it twice. The first time had been in Diagon Alley, when Harry was speaking to Jeremiah Spriggs. The second had been when the Potter Clan had run into the Malfoys, little Draco had made a comment about Lily Potter, and Harry had calmly told the little piss-ant that if he said another word that he'd break his inbred pureblood neck. The little coward had shut the hell up.

"Impetuous, am I?" Harry said his voice carrying a dangerous note, "I call it decisive. I sensed that it was an entrance and acted. Only a Parselmouth would have been capable of opening the passage, and you were about to carry me off like a sack of potatoes!"

Moody looked at Harry, both eyes seeming to bore into the boy. Harry for his part seemed completely unaffected by the weighing stare. Neville hoped he could've bore that stare half so well.

Moody grunted and spoke, "You might've had the right of this situation, but I'm responsible for you. When I command you obey! A good soldier knows how to follow orders."

As Harry and Moody spoke, the Curse Breakers carefully began casting diagnostic spells over the newly revealed entrance.

"Only if you agree to listen to me, after all a general needs to know how to take advice. You taught me that, said it was one of Dumbledore's weaknesses, if I recall correctly." Harry's voice seemed to fill the corridor.

"This isn't a negotiation." Moody said sternly. "But next time you have something to say I'll listen. Better not be a bleedin' waste of my time though! And next time you pull a stunt like that I'll Transfigure you into a Baboon, 'cause I haven't spent the past five years training you, for you to act a liken idiot!" Neville knew it wasn't an idle threat, he himself had been transfigured into a bloody toad, for slacking off during a duel.

"I understand, sir." Harry said, showing just the right amount of contrition. "However I'd suggest that we investigate the passageway, I think it's likely that we will find at least another Parsel-ward. We don't know when another Parseltongue, who isn't a 'Dark Blighter', will walk these halls."

Another grunt and Moody started conferring with the Curse Breakers, who had stopped casting. Harry and Neville shared a look. They were considering it! Neville felt a twinge of jealousy, Harry always did exactly what he wanted, dealt with the consequences, and usually came out smelling like a rose!

Seemingly done talking, Moody turned back to the boys.

"All right you've got a point, Harry. The Curse Breakers still can't find anything out about the Parsel-ward. Looks like you'll be needed if they run into another one. The Curse Breakers will take point, you and Neville will don your cloaks and stay between Remus and myself. We will wait here until the Curse breakers decide they need your ability. You will do exactly as I say or you won't have to wait for old Voldy to take another run at you!" Moody finished with a flourish of his wand.

Buzzing with excitement both boys put their hands into identical moke skin rucksacks and drew forth invisibility cloaks. Neville's invisibilty cloak was looking a little ragged and would soon need replacement, Harry's Cloak of Invisibility was as good as the day it was created.

The boys donned their cloaks as the Curse Breakers moved through the entranceway. Several of the Medjai followed on their heels. The minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, Neville glancing down at his watch-that-wasn't-a-watch, and saw that it had only been ten minutes!

Five minutes later and Altair, one of the junior Medjai came up, and spoke the password, "Darkness ever contends with the Light." Moody lowered his wand fractionally and motioned for the young man to continue.

"Moody, we've followed a staircase into the depths of this accursed place, the stairway was free of protections, so we made good time. At the foot of the stairs we have encountered another Parsel-ward."

Nodding, Moody followed the Medjai through the entrance, the ex-Auror's eye was whirring around incredibly fast. Treading carefully, the boys followed. After seven minutes of spiraling downwards, with only a trio of illuminated wands to light the way, they joined the Curse Breakers outside a familiar ivory carving.

"Harry, open it. Then stay back while the Medjai and the Curse Breakers make sure it's safe." Moody ordered.

Lifting the hood of his cloak, for the Cloak of Invisibility concealed any sounds that its wearer made, Harry spoke, "_Hasha shah ssi._" Then he quickly covered his head once more, as the carving seemed to part and a richly furnished room came into view. Unlike the rest of the Necropolis, the room seemed untouched by the darkness that engulfed the other portions of the Necropolis. Visible through the opening was a lavish bed, shelves for scrolls, and a large bath. Neville thought it looked like a very comfortable bedroom.

Blasts of orange light spread throughout the room, as the Curse Breakers scoured the room. Five minutes later, Bill approached them.

"We've found no traces of curses, wards, or any dark magic whatsoever. Mad-Eye we'd like you to take a look." Mad-Eye strode into the room, his magical eye whirring a mile a minute.

After several more minutes, Harry and Neville were allowed to enter.

The room was opulent! The bath was sculpted out of pure marble, the shelves were constructed of what looked like Erumpent bones, in the middle of the room was a orb filled with roiling smoke that sat upon a pedestal, several ornate mirrors with golden frames hung next to the privy, a collection of staffs were arranged along one wall, and a Nundu pelt served as a rug.

"Can't see anything harmful, but Dark Wizards are a cunning lot. This is the sanctum of one of the worst bastards to ever walk the earth, ask before you touch or do anything! Take your cloaks off!"

The boys replaced their cloaks into their moke skin rucksacks.

"Can I have a look at the scrolls, sir?" "Can I have a look at that mirror, sir?" The boys said simultaneously.

Moody's eye seemed to twitch between the objects in question for a full minute, before he grunted and nodded his assent.

Neville paced over to the scrolls and tablets and cast his own diagnostic spells. Ever since Mad-Eye had slipped a cursed book into his personal library and he had ended up with his ears shriveling off, he was properly cautious of unknown tomes.

Finding nothing amiss Neville began to peruse the collection. Most of the scrolls were in Ancient Egyptian, but some contained Runes that had sub-Saharan connotations. Seven scrolls were written in a language whose script was strangely reminiscent of a serpent, Neville made a note to investigate those further. Moving on to the tablets he found _thirteen_ black tablets of Atlantean manufacture. Thirteen! Only seven tablets were known to exist throughout the entire wizarding world!

The tablets were recognizable due to the geometric shapes that were on their front, no wizard could read Atlantean, and all attempts to translate the language had ended in failure. Still it was a treasure trove, worth more than a room of gold to Neville.

Palming one of the alien scrolls, Neville headed over to Harry, who stood transfixed before the mirror.

"Harry."

"Harry!"

"HARRY!" Neville said the last while he pushed Harry away from the mirror into the adjacent wall, carefully _not_ looking at the mirror himself.

Harry seemed to come back to himself.

"What was that for Nev?" Harry said with obvious annoyance, he knew Neville hated the diminutive.

"Harry you were staring at that mirror for a good ten minutes! I had to get you away from it, somehow." Neville said trying to keep the annoyance out of _his_ voice.

"You've got to take a look Neville. When I looked in the mirror, instead of seeing myself, I saw a fierce white and gold bird surrounded by blinding white fire, seemed similar to Dumbledore's phoenix. It felt like… I don't know, how to explain it, exactly. You have to see it for yourself!" Neville felt a tremor move through him. This sounded just like one of those dangerous sort of mirrors that his books had always warned him against, and considering its resting place, Neville wanted to run away, fast.

Instead, he turned to Hassan who seemed to be taking his ease, if a leopard could be said to taking its ease, by the bath. "Hassan, I'm going to go look in the mirror, if I don't stop looking into it in one minute please stop me. Don't let Harry look until I'm done."

As he approached the mirror, he could see that inlaid into the gorgeous golden frame were ancient hieroglyphics, idly he made a mental note to learn the language. Knowing that he was procrastinating, Neville pushed down his fear, strengthened his mental defenses, and looked at the mirror.

A glorious lion stared back at him, easily the size of a mini. A flowing golden mane framed a face that was locked in a ferocious snarl. The lion seemed to be drawing power from the stones beneath its paws. It was the most glorious creature he had ever seen. The image felt strangely familiar, a truth half remembered from a distant dream.

Neville felt disoriented as he was pushed to the ground, the pain shooting up from his posterior as it made contact with the strangely warm stone floor. Rubbing his backside, Neville stood up and addressed Hassan, who had interposed himself between Neville and the mirror. "Thank you, Hassan. You read ancient Egyptian, correct." Hassan nodded. "Would you mind translating the hieroglyphs, please?"

For a second Hassan seemed to deliberate, then he motioned for Altair to come over and they spoke quietly in their secret language. Once Neville had asked if he they could teach him, but he had been firmly rebuffed.

While the pair talked, Neville told Harry about the strange lion that he had glimpsed, and if Neville wasn't mistaken, the pair of Medjai seemed to talk even more hurriedly after his own description.

Hassan then moved over and read the inscription aloud, in English.

"I show only what lies within. Unfettered by the trappings of men, the Truth I do reveal." Hassan deep voice echoed in the chamber.

Hassan then looked at the mirror, and Altair moved towards the Medjai. Unlike the boys, Hassan turned away from the mirror quickly and of his own volition. His face was inscrutable as his gaze flitted between Neville and Harry.

"What did you see?" Harry asked, a second before Neville could voice his own question.

"Young lord, I saw only my Animagus form." The warriors answer started Neville's mind going a mile a minute. Neville and Harry had tried the Animagus potion two years ago, but the potion had failed to show either of their forms. They had both been extremely disappointed, becoming an Animagus had seemed like a rite of passage to the boys.

If this mirror showed the Animagus form of the viewer, and both of the boys had manifested magical beasts as their form, perhaps the potion was limited to mundane animals. Maybe he and Harry could accomplish the Animagus transformation afterall.

The thought of not only being an Animagus, a dream he had long thought dead, but having a magical form filled him with joy. Neville racked his brain for any further knowledge on his potential form, but came up with only vague insinuations. Using Occlumency he locked the idea into a corner of his mind, where part of himself would continue to mull over the information.

Neville moved to what was his initial reason for coming over to Harry. Pulling the scroll out, he handed it to Harry and asked him to read it. Harry did so, making quiet hissing sounds as he read. Looking up, Harry stared at Neville for a moment, puzzled.

"Why the hell would you want me to read the diary of this dark bastard. He goes on and on about how the muggles work too slow, and constantly whines about not finding the route to immortality. You're the bibliophile, not me. You should read this codswallop." Harry said more than a little miffed, gesturing with the scroll at Neville.

"I can't, it's written in Parselscript." Neville said, desperately trying to keep the smugness that he felt, from seeping into his voice. He had tricked Harry, but it had been necessary to confirm his suspicions, and see whether his brother could read Parselscript without knowing what it was.

Harry looked stricken. Neville didn't think it was because of the involvement of Parselmagic, the dark haired boy seemed to have come to terms with his ability. He thought it was because Harry would inevitably be called on to translate the scroll and any others found.

Noticing the time, Mad-Eye said it was time to withdraw. He had Harry close the carving outside the room, saying that they would return tomorrow.

As they walked up the spiraling staircase and through the dark and disturbing hallways of the Necropolis, Neville was lost in thoughts about Animagi, Curse Breaking, Parselmagic, and Atlantis. As they emerged into the evening sun, he pondered how it would feel to run underneath the sun in the strong leonine body that he had seen.

He never felt the stunner that smashed into him.

It had been a week since their journey to the Necropolis, and Neville had spent the better part of the week at the Alexandrian Library. Neville pushed the thought of Moody stunning him, and then lecturing him about "Constant Vigilance!" as he woke up, out of his head. He should have expected the attack, he _was_ careless. The wily old Auror did things like that from time to time.

Since taking the position of Tutor five years ago, Moody had taken to attacking the pair of boys at any time, day or night, regardless of situation. There was even an infamous instance at a Ministry gala, filled with the Britain's wizarding elite, when he had sprang out and stunned both boys in the middle of Minister Crouch's speech. Moody when questioned had grimly said, "My pupils were busy listening to the blathering of the Minister of Malcontent, instead of practicing Constant Vigilance!" The grizzled war veteran hadn't been allowed in the ministry ever since.

The Ancient Wizarding Library of Alexandria was a paradise for young witches and wizards like Neville, the hundreds of thousands of books, papyrus scrolls, tablets made out of clay, wood, or stone, in every known language, and more than a few unknown languages, offered a veritable feast to an inquiring mind like his.

According to _13 Wonders of the Magical World and Where to Find Them, _the Library was built in the Greek style by Ptolemy I Soter in the year 308 B.C., beside its muggle counterpart. The Great Library, was the oldest and greatest storehouse of wizarding knowledge in the world. After its founding, the Pharaoh and his successor's agents both magical and mundane scoured the world for 260 years, seeking out texts to fill their respective domains. In 48 B.C., Caesar burned down the muggle Library and a group of enterprising wizards began to cast their ancient equivalent of Notice Me Not charms on the wizarding building. These same wizards began to ruthlessly and deliberately expunge all mention of the library from muggle records. In this way, the muggles completely forgot that there had ever been a wizarding library.

Beautiful moving mosaics, created by masters throughout the millennia, portrayed the momentous events of antiquity and yesteryear. These masterworks decorated the marble facade of the building. While the exterior was considered a piece of art, the interior was the true masterpiece, and Neville thought it was the Greatest Wonder the world to offer.

Neville estimated the interior of the library at 40 acres of zigzagging shelves that seemed to move of their own accord, and according to the tome, _Wizard Space: A Deliberate Diagnostic of Folding the Fabric of Space_, the library grew to accommodate every new text placed on its ever moving shelves. Such a powerful spell, that pushed the boundaries of Wizarding Space know how, required immense power. The vast majority of the power was supplied by Solar magic, a type of magic that converted the heat of the sun into raw magic in the more sunny climates of the world. However, _The Great Wizarding Library: A Secret History_, said that upon surrendering your wand and accepting a guest pass, the guest entered into a contract with the library and became a focus for the magic, guiding the raw magic to a useful purpose. This aided the guest in finding the exact books they were looking for.

In one of the small private rooms, adjacent to the labyrinthine library, Neville Longbottom sat in a plush chair surrounded by a table full of books, scrolls, and tablets. Next to him Remus Lupin, affectionately known as Moony, perused through a scroll pertaining to the origins of the Werewolf Curse. Neville's back was facing the corner of the room, the door firmly within his view. Mad-Eye would've had his hide if he sat with his back to a door. As it was, Neville felt more than a bit uncomfortable without his wand.

With no small amount of relief he was glad that he had his other possessions: a watch-that-wasn't-a-watch, a copy of _Animagi: The Animal Within_, his shielded and enchanted robes, a rare and expensive invisibility cloak that was starting to look a little worse for the wear, a silver hipflask containing a custom curative that negated most known poisons, a mithril knife strapped to the Crus of his left leg, his belt buckle that doubled as an emergency portkey and was designed to travel to a safe house under the Fidelius Charm, his mokeskin rucksack with a powerful Notice Me Not charm keyed to Neville, an Auror-grade _Comm-Mirror_, a _Nimbus 2000_, a pair of stunning orbs, and nine potions that he had either bought or brewed.

Some would have thought him paranoid for carrying all of those items, but it wasn't paranoia if people were out to get you! Constant Vigilance!

Neville perused through the Latin text, _Rarum et magicis iumentis: Compendium_, it was a rare first edition that had survived for close to two millennia. The young wizard was looking for any hint of the golden lion or white bird that he and Harry had seen in the Animagi Mirror. All the other books that he had read made no mention of the creatures. Reading for several minutes in silence he excitedly came to a creature that fit the description.

The Nemean Lion, known in Latina as the _Leonis Obesset_, was a magical lion that had roamed Europe and Africa until 100 B.C. The animal had boasted a coat that was resistant to all but the most potent magic, claws and fangs that ripped through any defense, size and speed that were comparable to a large sports car, the ability to draw power directly from the earth, and a terribly cunning mind. Highly territorial, they attacked any who encroached upon their perceived territory, usually this meant man. The lions became known as one of the true man hunters in recorded history. The invention of the Killing Curse, which the book claimed had been in response to the Nemean Lion, and their relatively low birth rates had ended their species.

Going through the book he reached the section describing phoenixes, and found something interesting. There was an ancient myth, ancient even at the writing of this text, about a White Crown phoenix, or _Phoenicis coróna album_, said to be some sort of king of phoenixes. According to the scroll, the phoenix had been given birth by the Sun, fought on behalf of an immortal army, had been imprisoned by demons, and its return would herald a new Age for magic. There was no other mention of the bird, but Neville knew that having the name for the Animagus to use was essential for the transformation.

Neville put down the Latin book and picked up a Greek tome that speculated about Atlantis. _All_ of the best scholars on the subject agreed that an advanced culture of magic wielders, known as the Atlanteans, had existed 12,000 years ago. Then an unknown catastrophe had wiped the civilization away, destroying their populace, resulting in the loss of their culture and considerable knowledge. This particular author had no new insights about its location, but he did make the claim that only the "True Blood of Atlantis" would be able to find and breach its defenses.

The True Blood theory was over a hundred years old, and the ICW had a method of test devised to find a so-called True Blood. Every pureblood or half-blood had been tested, and not a single True Blood had been found in the entire wizarding world, the test had fallen into disuse. The book though interesting, didn't get him any closer to his goal.

His secret dream was to find the Lost City and leave an indelible mark on history, maybe even provide the vital edge in the eventual conflict with Voldemort.

While his family was a very loving one, he felt overshadowed. His stepfather's grand vision for magical Britain was slowly transforming the country, and he was seen as one of the strongest wizards alive. His mother had been an excellent Auror, and was now doing a fine job of raising four willful and independent children, she was also responsible for managing the finances and assets of two of Britain's oldest and wealthiest families.

Then there was Harry, The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Neville was a something of a prodigy in both Potions and Herbology, excellent with Combat magic, and quite skilled in both Transfiguration and Charms, but his accomplishments never had the same _weight_ as Harry's. His stepbrother was the Sun, and everybody was either drawn into his orbit or burned up. The black haired boy was a true prodigy in Combat magic, his skill in Charms and Transfiguration were spectacular, and if he was only an adequate wizard in most other respects, it was put down to his lack of interest, not lack of capability.

He shifted to check the time and felt a twinge of pain from his ribs. During their usual morning training, Harry had caught him with a Bone Breaking curse, and Neville had fractured several ribs. Mad Eye had healed the injury with his usual efficiency, fifty years as an Auror made you quite the expert on broken bones, cuts, abrasions, burns, curse damage, and other common injuries. Moody did have a special trick that he customarily used. After he healed a wound, the ghost of the inflicted pain remained, for a while at least. The Legendary Auror said that pain was the best teacher.

Sighing he carefully closed the book and did a once over of the texts on his table, they were mostly a collection of one of a kind works regarding Atlantis. There was even a black tablet wrought of some unidentified metal with strange geometric symbols etched onto its surface, supposedly of Atlantean design, though no one had been able to read it. He regretted that soon he would be gone from this wonderful library, and worried that he would walk away no closer to his goal.

Idly he contemplated the scenario that had bought him to this Mecca of learning.

The family had come to Alexandria two weeks ago, for numerous reasons: to see the historical sights, oversee the opening of a new branch of Marauder's Incorporated, to watch Puddlemere United play a friendly against the Alexadria Ibises, and James had felt it necessary to provide support to the newly elected Minister.

Egypt had been a haven for the Dark Arts for thousands of years, only within the last fifty years had they conformed to the ICW's ruling regarding the Unforgivables and been awarded full membership.

The recent elections had been a stunning reversal of millennia of tradition. The younger generation inspired, in part, by James' fiery rhetoric, had staged a brilliant campaign which had seen the election of a true Reformer to the position of minister, for the first time in history. At the Minister's request, James and his family had travelled to Egypt to offer congratulations and provide any kind of support possible.

The Potter Clan and their retinue had settled in a mansion on the outskirts of Alexandria. Lord Potter had been a guest of honor at the Ruling Council's session, and had spoken eloquently in a speech, praising Minister Khaleed's efforts and the Egyptian people's will to change. Between that and his economic enterprises he had little time for leisure. Lady Potter took Gideon and Rose to the attractions in both muggle and wizarding Egypt.

Harry and Neville had fallen into a comfortable routine since arriving.

At 0600, they would wake up and quickly eat, then they would arrive no later than 0630 at the training room to meet Moody.

Training would last for three hours and it would consist of calisthenics, target practice, spell chain practice, one-on-one duels, and mock battles that varied in makeup and number of participants.

After training, they would shower and study one of the following Alchemy, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, History, Potions, or Transfiguration. Most of the work was practical in nature, though they did write essays on occasion. Saturday and Sundays were days off.

During lunch, the boys would socialize with the other members of the household. Their parents would talk about their time with the Egyptian minister, Moony would talk about his work with the Clans, a loose international confederation of werewolves, and Gideon and Rose would constantly question Harry and Neville about their training.

Then Harry would be dragged off to the Necropolis, to help a team of Archaeologists discover the secrets of Apophis' sanctum. Meanwhile Neville was able to go to the Great Library. Neville definitely thought he got the better deal.

After the long day, dinner came about and the entire household made a point of attending. They would spend the evenings leisurely walking about the grounds or travelling to tourist attractions.

The sound of the door opening brought Neville back to himself.

One of the Librarians, a wizened old witch whose stern and brisk manner never failed to remind Neville of his Gran, led Harry and two of the Medjai in. His stepbrother seemed very excited, not an emotion that Neville associated with Harry and libraries.

"Thank you madam." He said to the aged woman with a courteous bow. The crone gave Harry a slight smile as she withdrew, which was more than Neville had seen in his week of exploring the Library. Sometimes, Harry had a way with people.

Closing the door, Harry said, "Come on, the Quidditch match is in an hour!"

Neville had forgotten the Quidditch match was today, that at least explained Harry's enthusiasm. The boy was a born flyer. And while he might have been a prodigy with a wand, Harry's true passion was Quidditch. Neville thought the whole game mad, and it wasn't just because he was complete rubbish on a broom.

Sighing, he carefully began to put away the texts on the cart provided. Remus and Harry began to help, Neville was glad, there were _more_ than a few texts spread across the table, and without assistance it might have took him half an hour to put the books away.

"Honestly, Nev what is this tosh. I thought you were doing _important_ research, and here you are reading this angsty drivel." Harry said.

Harry's comment brought Neville up short, all of the books that he'd chosen _were_ for research, and while Harry didn't read nearly as often as Neville, he wasn't an idiot.

"What are you on about?" asked Neville, as he turned to face his step brother.

Harry bent and picked up the Atlantean tablet that he had been looking at_,_ and the black metal seemed to come _alive_. The symbols began glowing a bright golden color as they undulated up and down the tablet. All the while Harry stood in a trance, his eyes locked onto the suddenly vivid tablet.

Before either Neville or Moony could move, the tablet returned to its previous lifeless state and Harry continued talking as if nothing remarkable had happened.

"A hundred year old Vampire and a Werewolf at one another's throat over some teenage girl, sounds like some girl's torrid fantasy. I can't be-" Harry paused, and looked at both Neville and Moony. "What?"

Neville licked his suddenly dry lips. What he had just seen was _impossible_! Parseltongue was bad enough, but for Harry to be able to nonchalantly read Atlantean was just too much. It wasn't fair!

"Harry, do you know what that tablet is?" Moony said in a somewhat shocked voice.

"A poorly written, turgid piece of shite? No, don't tell me it's more Parselscript. Those archaeologists are driving me spare." He said in an irritated tone of voice. Oblivious to the implications of his actions

"No, not Parselscript. Atlantean, I'd say." Remus said as if he were discussing the weather, apparently his shock had worn off.

Harry dropped the tablet and backed away in shock, the ancient tablet fell to the floor soundlessly. Putting the table between himself and the offending tablet, Harry looked from Moony to Neville.

"We can't tell anybody about this! Those archaeologists would never let me see the light of day if they knew." Harry sounded genuinely worried.

"I agree, of course we'll have to tell your parents, but I think it'd be best if we kept this quiet. Try to avoid touching anything on the way out, my boy." Moony said, with one of his trademark half-smiles.

Neville and the werewolf silently returned the texts to the cart, and before they knew it the trio were arriving at the check-in center. Mutely Neville returned his wand to his wrist holder. As he started to delve into the ramifications of Harry being able to access the Atlantean tablets, he stopped himself. Using his prodigious skills as an Occlumens, he pushed the torrent of thoughts into a corner of his mind for later examination, and forced himself to _focus_ on the present.

Outside the Library, they met up with their escort of six additional Medjai and set out toward the Quidditch Stadium. The sun burned hot in the June sky and only the cooling charm on Neville's robes kept him from breaking into a sweat. A salty smell permeated the air as a light sea breeze rustled his blonde hair.

They moved about the crowded avenue, the surrounding crowds, dressed in light colored robes, gave the dark clad Medjai a wide berth, and Neville could swear he heard whispers following them. Harry was uncharacteristically quiet during the journey, and Neville could've sworn he saw Moony looking at the black haired boy once or twice.

Soon they joined the rest of the household at the massive Quidditch stadium. Located by the docks, the area gave a splendid view of the Mediterranean. The sun reflected off of the sea in a dazzling scene, as ships pulled in and out of the busy port. The Great Lighthouse shone magnificently to magical eyes. Like the Quidditch stadium and the Library, the Lighthouse had powerful anti-muggle enchantments.

Harry visibly brightened as the family made its way to the VIP box, they would be sharing the box with many dignitaries, magnates, and luminaries of wizarding Egypt, chief of which was Minister Khaleed and his family.

Neville estimated that the stadium could comfortably seat 75,000.

Soon Puddlemere came out their robes, navy-blue emblazoned with two crossed golden bulrushes, flashing by as they did laps around the pitch. Vaguely Neville remembered that the team's Seeker was Bill Weasley's younger brother. Polite applause echoed across the stadium as the visitors flew intricate patterns.

"James, what do you think the chance of Amun-Ra's Mystical Academy being included in the Septem-Wizard Se-" The minister's question was drowned out by the roar of the crowd as the Alexandria Ibises, clad in green and white, flashed across the pitch.

Soon the match started and Neville found himself questioning whether he was the only sane wizard in two countries. Everyone else was raptly following the match, as if some sacred rite were unfolding before them. Even the normally composed Moony was fanatically cheering.

He cast his eyes about the luxury box and he found a pair of sharp black eyes. The eyes belonged to a pretty olive skinned woman who was wearing a niqab and a very conservative blue dress.

Mustering his courage, he shuffled over to the young woman, pushing through the crowd.

"Hello, I'm Neville Longbottom, it's a pleasure to meet you." Neville said loudly, hoping that the pretty girl spoke English, and thought he was worth talking to. Neville's could read Arabic fluently, but he was much less confident in his verbal Arabic.

"Naliah Khaleed, you're Mr. Potter's stepson correct?" She replied in flawless English. She cast a nonverbal charm that dulled the roar of the crowd to a faint buzzing.

Neville nodded and said, "Not much of a Quidditch fan are you?"

"I prefer something a little closer to the ground." She said with a musical laugh.

They fell into a comfortable conversation that lasted the entire Quidditch match.

Naliah was on Summer Break from Amun-Ra's Mystical Academy. She was in the last year of her education, and dreamed of following in her father's footsteps, hoping to be the first female Egyptian minister. Her favorite subject was Arithmancy.

The girl was fascinated by Neville's tales of America, Brazil, Potter's Bluff, and China. Neville found himself stuttering and blushing throughout the conversation, Naliah just warmly chuckled at his unease.

Bill's brother ended the match by catching the snitch, and securing the victory for Puddlemere. For the first time in Neville's thirteen years of life he was disappointed to see a Quidditch match come to an end.

Neville was despondent, the security around the Potter household rendered the boys very much isolated from the Wizarding world at large. Perhaps he could prevail upon his parents to be intermediaries on his behalf.

Before he could voice his thought, the two families began descending from the box. Everybody was talking about the marvelous play between the two sides, and the spectacular performance of the newly acquired Charlie Weasley.

Once they were outside the stadium the Potter's and the Minister's Medjai combined seamlessly to form a bodyguard of twenty war wizards, Neville noted that Hassan seemed to be second-in-command, taking orders from a smaller wizard of the minister's escort.

Directly in front of them was the sea, and a long avenue, four lanes wide stretched to the east and west.

The large and dense crowds, still rowdy from the match, dispersed begrudgingly before the party's advance. It was decided that the group would retire to the Minister's mansion, which was seven blocks away.

Muggles didn't see anything properly, they couldn't notice the thousands of wizards that filtered out of the enchanted stadium. They continued their blind existence, cars locked into the grind of traffic, a large bus had stalled and was causing major congestion.

Mad-Eye rushed forward, his wand levelled at the red double decker bus that seemed to have broken down.

"Something's wrong with the bus! Protego! Everybody shields u—"Moody's words were cut off by the bus exploding outward in a massive ball of fire and shrapnel and sound. A brilliant blue and white shield flashed into being around the group, surrounding them like a dome, straining and bulging against the powerful blast, it managed to repel the life ending explosion.

The surrounding street was obscured by smoke and fire. There was no sign of Mad-Eye.

"Disapparition and antiportkey jinxes are in place, those jinxes can't cover a large area, probably a hundred yards max. Stay together and don't panic! This was surely aimed at our group, and I don't think we're out of the woods yet. We've got to get out of the jinxes' influence and get to a safehouse. Wands Ready!" His stepfather's magically enhanced voice echoed over the surroundings and washed over Neville. The young wizard flicked his wrist and his wand was came to rest reassuringly in his palm. Ashamedly he realized that he was one of the last wizards to do so. He resolved to do much better, he had been _trained_ for this moment.

_Mad- Eye would be ashamed!_ Neville roughly pushed down the sorrow that accompanied that thought, Occlumency skills allowing him to compartmentalize his grief in a distant corner of his mind and he once again focused.

Looking around he saw that his mum had Gideon and Rose well in hand, a look of fierce determination plastered across her face, wand held aloft. The Medjai prowled the edges of the dome wands ready. Harry moved away from the huddled mass, Holly wand at the ready, while his other hand dug through his rucksack. They all followed suit moving subtly apart from one another, to give them room to dodge any curses that broke through, wands at the ready

The shield seemed to blur outwards for a moment, and the dust and smoke that had permeated the perimeter of the shield vanished, revealing the carnage outside.

Chaos seemed to bloom outside of the shield as smoke cleared. Where the bus had been, a deep crater, almost six feet deep had formed. Surrounding the crater were the still burning remnants of muggle cars that had been tossed about like toys, burnt and disfigured corpses littered the ground, and the moans and screams of the injured, somewhat muted by the shield, stabbed into Neville like a knife.

The uninjured, mostly witches and wizards who had been able to protect themselves, or had been outside the blasts' radius, were running around panic stricken. The whole scene was surreal. Again Neville locked away the grief and rage that threatened to overwhelm him.

The shield blurred again and the familiar orange light of the detection spell spread throughout the surroundings. Two dozen orange shaded figures remained as the remnants of the spell faded. Disillusioned or Invisible! The spell had revealed the hidden enemy.

"Avada Kedavra!" A green light exploded from one of the marked spots about ten feet outside the dome. It pierced the shield effortlessly and barreled toward James. A blue robed Medjai leapt in between James and the spell, the heroic Medjai's lifeless corpse and the shield fell at the same time.

_Is that what happened to my father?_ He thought as he gazed at the dead body. Neville suppressed his rising horror, too.

A gut wrenching smell hit Neville, making him almost vomit. The smell of ozone, burning petrol, and burning flesh assaulted him.

Seeing a figure in his peripheral, he instinctively rolled forward, narrowly avoiding a red light that Neville identified as the Cruciatus. The light continued and slammed into the back of a Medjai. Heart rending screams issued from the bodyguard.

"Ventus Laminis!" Invisible blades of wind howled from his Mother's wand, striking the glowing attacker, and messily cutting him to ribbons. The piercing screams mercifully stopped.

"Omnis simulatio!" James' voice boomed and a silver flash of light _pentrated_ the area, and the enemy's disillusioning was cast off. The attackers wore non-descript robes, though their faces were obscured by turbans that had there sash pulled over the lower part of the face.

Neville saw Naliah hit with a Bone Breaking Curse by an assailant, wand steady despite the rage that boiled within. He let loose with his favored spell chain.

"Gravitus! Forzare! Induratum A'ris!"

The Gravity spell smashed into the enemy's summoned shield and instead of being absorbed or deflected, it _detonated_ and cast a powerful gravitational field in its vicinity, distinctive in its inky blackness. Then the Force Curse shattered the silver shield, allowing the inky black of enhanced gravity to affect the target. The wizard fell to his knees, the force of one hundred times normal gravity pushing on his body. Finally the axe shaped air cleaved into his covered head, the enemy forcefully collided with the ground. Blood and brains covered the ground.

Sure that he had killed his first man, and strangely not bothered by it, he hurried over to Naliah and saw her cradling her arm.

"Straighten your arm out. Hurry! Ferula!" He said tapping her arm with his wand, as she grimaced and complied. Bandages issued from his wand and began spinning and snapped tightly to a splint.

Neville quickly glanced at the battlefield.

The battle was in full force. The attackers had numerical superiority and did not shy away from the use of the Unforgivables, but they seemed surprised to find organized resistance, and were poorly trained for dueling. Perhaps they had been expecting a massacre of unorganized and fear stricken civilians.

The long years of training and preparation paid off as the Potter household fought skillfully. Lord Potter was the center of combat, engaging half a dozen enemies at any one point, effortlessly performing transfiguration for both offense and defense. Minister Khaleed was holding his own against a pair of attackers. The Medjai fought like wolves, with a frightening level of cooperation.

At some point Harry had jumped on his Firebolt, the young wizard was hurtling through the air at amazing speeds, performing maneuvers that made Neville nauseas just seeing them. As he dove and juked through the air, he shot powerful spells at the hostile forces. Neville's mother had assumed a defensive posture with Rose, Gideon, Minister Khaleed's wife, and several other non-combatants nestled between her and six Medjai.

"Come on we're going to my mum, she's taking care of the non-combatants."

The older girl followed him mutely as they made their way to his mother, Neville nonverbally stunned a wizard who blocked their path.

As they reached the group of women and children, a ferocious roar echoed through the battlefield. A strong stench, overwhelming even the horrifying smell of ozone and burning flesh. It made Neville distinctively remember the time Mad-Eye had taken the boys to see a Mountain Troll.

"Bloody hell, ten Trolls _marching_ from the west, and the buggers have brought a fucking _Nundu_, due east. Bubblehead Charms, everyone." Harry's voice rang through the air. Neville could see a shift in battle as both sides adjusted for the arrival of the new force.

The Trolls were fully grown at twelve feet apiece, they wielded enormous swords lethally as they waded into the melee. Curses and hexes bounced harmlessly off of their tough hid, one was brought low by a Conjunctivis Curse, but the other marched on, stalking their prey. Normally Trolls were quarrelsome beings, who wouldn't know discipline from soap, something was _driving_ them to obedience.

At the other end of the avenue, a spotted cat about the size of a lorry leapt about with startling speed and agility. Powerful spells and curses just seemed to aggravate the Nundu, it's incredibly sharp claws slicing through flesh and bone like butter. A second glance, showed golden runes carved into the beast's flesh. They were using the Nundu as a power source and anchor for the portkey and apparition jinxes!

"Ebublio!" Neville cast quickly, Nundu's were widely considered the most dangerous animal in the world. The beast's very breath was a powerful airborne toxin. The bubble enveloped his head, and he turned to do the same for those who couldn't perform the charm.

Done with his work, he turned to see Harry bucking dangerously in mid-air. Someone was using a jinx on Harry! He scanned the field looking for the tell-tale signs of a jinx, he found none. Casting his eyes to the nearby stadium he saw three dark figures standing in one of the alcoves on the exterior of the stadium's ground level. A purple turbaned wizard was unblinkingly staring at Harry, the other two were shielding for him.

What looked like a quaffle was sent careening at Harry as he was jerking about, haphazardly the young wizard banished the item away. Somehow the quaffle bounded into a Troll, and upon contact the Troll disappeared. A portkey!

The bastard was trying to kidnap Harry, and Neville didn't have a clear line of fire, dueling combatants would move in between Neville and the son of a bitch. Neville had to do something! He searched the depths of his mind, casting about for a solution. Neville though the found one.

Gathering himself, he drew upon the sorrow of losing Mad-Eye, the anger of seeing Naliah attacked, the panic of seeing his brother at the whim of a dark wizard, he focused it into a weapon, a blade.

Unleashing all of the pent up emotions that he had felt during the battle, Neville _focused_ and shouted, "Ignis Fragor!" A flourish of his wand sent a bar of fire less than the width of a large man's forearm, and about ten feet tall flashing above the battle field in the caster's direction. The bar of red launched through the air with a high pitched whining sound. As the Blossom of Fire reached the second level of the stadium, Neville willed the bar to explode, showering the second level and the trio of dark wizards in a sheet of flame thirty feet wide. The wizards successfully shielded themselves from the flames, but the falling debris of the collapsing second floor began to fall on them, breaking the jinx on Harry's broom.

Neville felt drained, and almost stumbled and was caught by something warm. Naliah was standing at his side, good arm around his shoulders, looking at Neville with a strangely awed expression. Neville had seen that look, but _never_ directed at _him_!

With a last surge of will Neville performed the Sonorous charm and shouted, "The Nundu, they're using it as a Ward Cluster." Ward Cluster was a term that the Curse Breakers had used to describe the heart of any ward.

Like some terrible god of war, Harry rose above the fray, Neville tiredly thought Harry felt somehow more _real_ than everybody else as he pointed his wand at the Nundu. A pure white bar of molten light leapt out of his wand and sped towards the Nundu. The Nundu turned and roared a challenge as the spell struck it, then the beast's color inverted and it was gone, along with a large portion of the surrounding street.

Neville was astounded as a dozen wizards who had been murdered or mauled by the beast were returned to life, as if nothing had happened. That broke _the_ law of magic, you simply couldn't return the dead to life!

His thoughts were interrupted as several things happened at once: Harry fell limply from his broom and Moony slowed his descent with an Arresto Momentum; Fifty golden robed Egyptian Aurors apparated into the battlefield; half of the remaining enemies disapparated.

Those dark wizards who hadn't apparated away were quickly stunned and bound.

Neville and his mother rushed over to where Moony cradled a very pale and unconscious Harry.

"Is he-" Neville started.

"Extreme magical exhaustion. That spell, whatever the hell it was, almost killed him. I think he'll be alright with time and rest." Moony said, obvious concern cutting into his voice. Alice bent down and gently took Harry from Remus and began to cradle and rock her stepson, tears glistening in her eyes.

Neville's stepfather came rushing over, a heartbreaking look of desperation and what could've been guilt marring his features. Silently Lord Potter, waved his wand in complicated motions about Harry. A rush of almost tangible relief seemed to sweep through James, as he appeared satisfied with the results of his spells. He stood never taking his eyes off his son.

"Lord Potter, my family and I owe you a very great debt. Whatever medical assistance young Harry or your household needs, just say the word." The Minister's voice was laced with sincerity as he spoke.

"With rest and time Harry will be alright, but I think some of my men will take up your offer, minister." He said gesturing at the many wounded.

At that moment, one of the Aurors approached and spoke quietly to Minister Khaleed, handing him a paper. When they were finished and the minister had finished reading the contents of the paper, he turned back to James.

"This message was delivered to our government's office in concert with the attack. The Thirteen have claimed responsibility for the attack. Obviously, they aimed at destabilizing my country's government and rolling back the progress we have made!" The minister's voice was low and dangerous. "They have effectively made an act of war against the Egyptian state, this will not go unpunished."

"No, it will not!" Lord Potter said while he looked contemplatively at Harry.


	5. Resolutions and Revelations

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 4**

**Resolutions and Revelations**

"We took the Half-Giant during the operation, earlier this evening, sir." Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt said, as he gestured to the largest man Sirius had ever seen, at least twelve foot tall and half again as wide as Hagrid. The brute was trussed up against an enchanted stone wall by huge chains that wouldn't have been out of place on the anchor chain of a shipping freighter. Sirius knew the chains had Unbreakable Charms on each link. The dark wizard was visibly shaking and twitching.

"What in bleeding hell happened out there?" The Head of the Auror Office demanded. They'd have to use unorthodox interrogation tactics since Legilimency and Veritaserum were useless against his kind. The usual spells used to blind and deafen the prisoner were likewise ineffective. Instead, they had placed blinding goggles over his eyes, silenced earmuffs over his ears, and a gag over his mouth.

After the attack two weeks ago, the Ministry, and Sirius in particular, had taken a much more active approach with regards to the Thirteen. The Wizengamot came to a consensus, which was unheard of in the current climate, and agreed that the foreign organization needed to be dealt with harshly. A new resolution had called for the creation of an anti-Thirteen task force. Sirius at its head, had been appointed to seek out and destroy the Thirteen. He had chosen Rufus Scrimgeour and Kingsley Shacklebolt to act as his lieutenants, and agents in the field. The Senior Aurors were each given charge of three Aurors and a team of Hit Wizards to fulfill their tasks.

Kingsley had discovered a low level contact of the Thirteen in Manchester, named Arias Olsen. Olsen was a distributor of a new and virulent drug called Blue Ambrosia. The Thirteen were thought to be his suppliers. Sirius had given the go ahead to capture Olsen and his supplier. What had resulted had been a fire fight that had required the services of a dozen obliviators, and the large scale repair of Beetham tower, one of those muggle skyscrapers.

Kingsley had Comm'd him two hours ago, requesting his presence. The Senior Auror had met him in the Atrium and accompanied him down to the quiet cells. They drew their name from the fact that everything that went on within was strictly confidential.

"We went to grab Olsen, that nasty piece of work, and his partner, a White Court Vampire, but The Half-Giant sniffed us out right away." Kingsley said, his voice professional as always. Giants had a sense of smell that rivalled a werewolf's. "The Half-Giant murdered Olsen gruesomely, and caved in Proudfoot's chest with a glancing blow. The Vampire cut Dawlish's arm off at the elbow with a nasty curse, and escaped despite the wards. I was finally able to conjure those chains and Savage shattered the Half-Giant's wand. We bound him and drug him back here, about four hours ago."

"We had to emergency evacuate them to St. Mungo's, currently they're in critical, but stable condition."

Sirius sighed in relief, while he thought Proudfoot was an utterly average Auror and Dawlish was quite a stuffy prig, they were both men under his command, and he was thankful that the pair had stabilized. He made a mental note to go check up on the pair.

Sirius nodded and turned to study his prisoner. The Half-Giant's head was completely bald and covered with scars and tattoos. In the torchlight, the Auror could see the captive's obscenely powerful muscles stretching taut, straining vainly against his bonds. The humongous man made the dark room with its small wooden table, accompanying chair, and Observation Orb seem much smaller than it actually was.

"I'll want a full report on my desk, in the morning. Now go home, you've had a long night. Leave this scum to me." Sirius said, his voice quiet and restrained.

Kingsley hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head and left, closing the door behind him. Sirius inaudibly counted to one hundred in his head, inwardly he formulated his plan as he tightened his Occlumency barriers. This bastard was part of the organization that had killed Mad-Eye, and attacked his family. Mad-Eye had been a father figure, James was his brother, in every way that mattered, Alice the sister he never wanted, and Harry the son he'd never had. Anything that threatened them, he would crush. Everyone always said that the Blacks had a cruel streak a mile wide.

Reaching one hundred, Sirius pulled an unregistered wand from its hidden holster on the small of his back. With a practiced flick of his wand, he nonverbally cast his custom locking charm on the door. The charm was very complex, nearly impossible to detect, and would take at least a minute for the most adept wizards to break, more importantly it would notify Sirius of anyone within a twenty foot radius. He added a silencing charm for good measure.

"Padfoot prides himself on partial punctuality!" his voice shouted the password from behind him, did he really sound like that? Sirius whirled on the spot to come face to face with himself, removing his invisibility cloak. Sirius trained his wand in the future-Sirius' direction, and cast every anti-illusion spell he knew. This was in accordance with his plan, but plans were known to fail _"Constant Vigilance!"_ he thought bitterly. "Don't worry about the Observation Orb, it's already taken care of."

The possible impostor was now holding his hands in the air, unaffected by the situation, and continued, "We have a mongoose liver in our mokeskin pouch, we know what'll happen to us if we eat it while under the influence of Polyjuice." Instant and virulent poisoning, possible death. If this was a trap the bastard was a magnificent actor, he was following Sirius' protocol for this situation exactly.

Sirius retrieved the liver with his offhand and floated it into his doppelganger's open mouth. Future-Sirius chewed on the liver with a look of utter distaste and quickly swallowed. Opening his mouth and showing that all traces of the disgusting liver were gone, future-Sirius said "Three turns and remember to wear your invisibility cloak."

Sirius lowered his wand and pulled his invisibility cloak out, quickly covering himself. Then he pulled the ministry issued time turner out from under his shirt and spun it three times. The time machines were good for up to five hours, safely. He was one of the six wizards who had been authorized to carry a time-turner. Someone had made the proposal that school children be allowed to use the devices to cope with impossible schedules, Sirius had made sure that the offending ministry member was booted out for gross incompetence, time turners were _dangerous_.

He closed his eyes and felt the vertigo of time travel. After a moment the vertigo passed, and he snapped his eyes open. He moved to the side as Kingsley almost barreled into him, on his way to Comm past-Sirius. Comm-mirrors didn't work down here.

Sirius turned to the Observation Orb, an unobtrusive orb used to record the happenings in the room. _Confundo!_ He wordlessly cast as he pointed the illegal wand at the orb, now it would record nothing, it would appear to be simply malfunctioning.

Sirius performed the spells to secure the room, adding in a Homenum Revelio for good measure. He also decided to cast a voice alteration charm on himself, now he'd sound exactly like Snivellus.

Turning to the Half-Giant, Sirius wordlessly summoned the goggles, the ear muffs, and the gag. The dark wizard blinked trying to acclimate to the sudden change in light.

"Conjuctivis!" Sirius said, as he carefully pointed the unregistered wand at the Half-Giant's eyes. As the spell made contact, the sound of rattling chains and booming howls filled the chamber. Sirius leaned against the interrogation desk, and waited.

Soon the target's eyes had swollen shut and his breathing had become ragged. Pulling an Oculus potion and a shot glass out of his mokeskin pouch, Sirius carefully poured a tumbler of the potion into the glass. Moving towards the prisoner and holding the glass out before him, he spoke.

"I have the cure for that curse right here. You can smell it, I'm sure." Sirius noted the flaring of the half-breed's nostrils. "In exchange for the cure, I will require your name."

"Idti yebat' tvoya shlyukha mat' politseyskogo!" The Dark Wizard cursed in what sounded like Russian.

"No. No. No. That won't do at all comrade. I think I'll show you proper etiquette." Sirius said in a falsely chipper voice.

What he was about to do made him sick to the stomach, but his enemies would use every nefarious means at their disposal to destroy everything he held dear. A bit of self-loathing was a small price to pay to protect those dear to him. James would never do this, but Sirus didn't have the luxury of such high ideals.

He drew one of his most revolting memories to the fore, he remembered how his insane mother had taught a fifteen year old Sirius how to use the Cruciatus curse. As with all of the Unforgivables, negative emotion wasn't enough, you needed something positive to give the curse shape and funnel the power into a useful tool. Consequently, you had to _enjoy_ the act of controlling others, of causing pain and suffering, or killing to get the proper reaction from the Curse. This necessary mental state, and the increasing frequency and ease with which the spell was cast, were the true reason for the Unforgivable label. A person capable of casting the curses was truly unforgivable.

Sirius dredged up the worst memory he had.

_A bloodied and mangle James, clutching Lily, and Harry, had portkeyed into his living room, as he was about to check on Peter. The horrifying sight of his family lying there in a heap on the carpet would haunt him for the rest of his years. Rage, fit to burn the world, seized him, rage at Voldemort, at Peter, and at himself. Guilt threatened to overcome him as he trudged over to the battered group and cast several diagnostic charms. Joy rushed through him like wildfire as he saw that both Prongs and little Harry would live. _

Sirius knew that the memory was enough to allow him to cast a potent Cruciatus, but he forced himself to continue on. Seduction was the curse's main threat to its caster, after using it once the caster would find it much easier to cast a second time, and would _want desperately_ to use it again. Many a dark wizard had been defeated by succumbing to the temptation, and using the spells imprudently. Sirius refused to be added to their number, so he imposed strict conditions upon himself.

The next memory that he dredged up was powerful in its own right. It was just a day after Lily's murder, Sirius had dragged James and Harry to the Hogwarts infirmary. Prongs had already paid the Phoenix's Price and received his golden hand in return. Moony had rushed to join them.

_Dumbledore had walked into the infirmary and began speaking._

_"I trust you are feeling better?" The ancient wizard said, as he glanced significantly at James golden hand, which rested atop the covers._

_"Yes, Sir." James said as he cradled Harry in his left arm._

_"How is young Harry, this morning?"_

_"Madame Pomfrey gave him a clean bill of health."_

_"Good, good. I think I've come across a piece of ancient magic that could provide Harry with substantial protection from Voldemort and his minions." As the aged Headmaster spoke, Prongs, Padfoot, and Moony listened intently. "The protection that Lily's sacrifice has given Harry extends through her blood. If Harry is placed with his Aunt, the protection will ensure that he is safe until he is old enough to attend Hogwarts."_

_Sirius had met Petunia Dursley at the Potter's wedding, and he felt the muggle was utterly abhorrent. The woman wasn't fit to raise a plant, let alone Harry. He felt his rage building on Harry's behalf, when Prong's voice cut through his thoughts._

_"Albus, you've never had a child of your own, so you might not understand, but I'd rather rip my lungs out than let that beastly twat raise Harry." James voice was dangerous. "_I'm_ Harry's father, I'll decide how to raise him."_

_"Harry, will be the target of many of the vilest wizards in our world, and his blood is one of the ways in which Voldemort may return. Those who do not wish him harm will seek to capitalize on his fame or spoil him with gifts. As the leader of the Order, it is my responsibility to see that Voldemort's return is stymied, and the Chosen One prepared to fight him." Albus' voice had lost all traces of grandfatherly warmth, instead it was hard and brooked no objection. "Let us honor Lily's sacrifice, and protect Harry to the best of our abilities." He finished in a consoling and placating tone._

_The bastard had the gall to use Lily against James, Sirius' rage reached a crescendo._

_"To be frank, you can shove the Order up your arse. My sole concern is the security and welfare of Harry. I'll do everything in my power to protect him, rip apart the fucking country, if need be! Can you say the same?" James stared balefully at the wizened wizard._

_"You know the prophecy, you know what's at stake. Don't let your reckless emotions doom us all!"_

_A feeling of tension pervaded the infirmary as the two wizards stared at one another, a silent battle of wills seemed to be taking place. At last, James broke the ominous silence by using his golden hand to push back the covers and gently cradled Harry as he stood. The wizard wobbled slightly, but soon found his footing_

_"I appreciate Hogwarts hospitality, but I think I've worn out my welcome. Harry and I will be going now. Good day Headmaster." Dressed in his hospital gown, flashes of bare arse visible though the part in the gown's back, James Potter strode out of Hogwarts. As the other Marauders hurried to catch up to their leader, Sirius had never felt so proud in his life._

As he dove into another memory, the anger and pride added to the tumult of his mind.

_This was a simple memory of his eating breakfast and reading the Daily Prophet. Peter Pettigrew's head had been delivered to Peter's mother, sans tongue. The elation that the traitorous bastard had gotten his comeuppance, was marred by the helpless anger and disappointment that he hadn't been the one to find his old _friend_._

He moved into the memory of the Longbottom attack.

_After his failure to track down Peter, Sirius had thrown himself into his work like never before. Setting up contacts, working long hours into the night. Then in December his work had borne fruit._

_He had received a tip from one of his most trusted informants. The informant had insisted that the Longbottoms were going to be abducted from Diagon Alley by some remaining Death Eaters. James, Sirius, and a squad of Hit Wizards had immmediately moved to Diagon Alley, but the abduction had already occurred. They were able to track the Death Eaters to a muggle warehouse where a firefight ensued. His cousin Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr. had been apprehended, the other Death Eaters had been killed in the fighting. _

_During the fight, Frank Longbottom had been struck by a Killing Curse. Alice had been subjected to numerous uses of the Cruciatus, if they'd been five minutes later, she might have ended up a permanent resident of St. Mungo's._

He jumped into memory after memory, they began to blur together. They all added something to his growing fury, however.

Sirius opened the final, more recent memory.

_Moony had comm'd him at work, and he had related the recent events in Egypt, culminating in Harry's hospitalization and Moody's death. He felt fresh anger and rage, directed at the Thirteen. Dark Wizards thought they could fuck around with good people's lives and get away with it. Well he wasn't a good person, and he would shatter their misconceptions, show them the price of their trade. Sirius Black felt exultant at the thought._

The anger, rage, grief, and hatred mixed into a boiling mass, and the joy, pride, and exultation sharpened his mind into a weapon, a sword with a hilt that was as likely to cut its wielder as its target.

"Crucio!"

Red light slammed into the Half-Giant and a blood curdling scream was ripped from his lips. The dark wizard trashed spasmodically. Sirius held the curse for long moments, fighting against the disturbing joy that threatened to overwhelm him.

When he released the curse, Sirius shuddered as the emotions stilled within him. The Russian wizard would have fallen to his knees if the massive chains had not held him upright. Apparently, Half-Giant's weren't immune to the Cruciatus.

"I have the cure for Conjunctivis curse right here. In exchange for the cure, I will require your name." Sirius affected a bored tone as he repeated the offer.

For a ponderous moment, the brute seemed like he wasn't going to answer. A part of Sirius, one that he kept tightly in hand, didn't want him to answer. That part wanted to torture the monster until he was insensate.

"Ulric Bolikoff. My name is Ulric Bolikoff." The dark wizard croaked.

"Verum Nomen!" Sirius cast the identity verification spell quickly, and an image of the Russian floated before his wand. He had not lied.

True to his word, Sirius levitated the antidote to the Russian's gaping mouth and allowed them to flow down his throat.

Quickly the Half-Giant's eyes returned to normal, and he anxiously glanced around the holding cell, obviously looking for his tormentor.

"I am not one of these ministry toadies." Sirius lied easily, still covered by the invisibility cloak, he didn't bother with hiding his smirk. "I'm a killer like you. Your organization attacked some very close friends of mine in Egypt. You will tell me everything you know about your organization, their role in the attack, and their goals in Britain. If you lie to me, or I think you are lying to me, you will be punished."

He paused once more, to run through his set of memories again. Like a man hanging desperately to a precipice, he forced himself to run through the entire torturous catalogue of memories. He the pointed his wand at the dark wizard and cast, "Imperio!"

What followed was almost three hours of interrogation, in which Sirius used the Imperius, which Bolikoff was resistant to, and Cruciatus to pry as much information out of the dark wizard, as possible. The Imperius and Cruciatus used in tandem were an extremely effective combination. Sirius' will felt beaten down after using so many Unforgivables, he _itched_ to keep using them, but he held himself back with iron self-control that he had developed over a decade of using the forbidden spells.

Sirius learned that Ulric had been a member of the Thirteen, since he was a teenager at Durmstrang, and that it was their modus operandi to recruit from wizarding schools. Very similar to what Voldemort did. Ulric said that he served an ancient Vampire called Caine, and that Caine was one of the thirteen council members who ruled the organization. It was rumored that Caine was a cast out of one of the Vampiric Courts higher echelons.

He learned the names of Ulric's contacts, his safe houses, and operating methods. Everything in excruciating and exacting detail. Ulric had no real intel on the members of the Thirteen, outside of Caine's operation. Things that would have taken months of investigation were laid bare before him in mere minutes. It was no wonder that dark magic kept drawing devotees, it was effective.

As it turned out, the organization was more of a cartel than anything. Each council member ruled their own coterie of dark wizards however they saw fit. The Thirteen only came into play when the interests of the each council member came into conflict, or some other factor threatened the common interest of the cartel.

The Russian also said that Voldemort and the Thirteen were on hostile terms, Voldemort had killed two of their ruling council when they had offered him a seat on the council. This made the Wizengamot's unified decision make sense, Voldemort's old supporters, who led the Pureblood Movement, would be as repelled by the Thirteen as everyone else. The shadowy cartel saw Britain as an emerging market, which had been denied to them for far too long.

Of Egypt, Ulric knew little. Only that the council had ordered that an example be made out of the Egyptian Minister. A new, but very powerful, British wizard had been given the task. After the botched assassination attempt, the newcomer had disappeared, and a contract had been put out on him. Ulric dearly wanted to collect the enormous bounty.

Glancing down, Sirius saw that his time was drawing to a close.

Drawing power to himself, he replaced the goggles, gag, and ear muffs. He continued to draw power to himself until he felt the sweet sensation that warned that he was approaching his magical limit. _Focusing_, Sirius cast, "Obliviate!"

The overpowered memory charm slammed into the shaking body of the dark wizard. Sirius intended to wipe every memory the brute had away, with any luck he wouldn't even remember his names. Magical resistances were tricky, so Sirius had imbued as much raw power as he could into the spell. The Auror saw no way for the Ministry to legitimately gain information from the Half-Giant, and if he remembered Sirius' actions, he'd be on a one way trip to Azkaban.

With a push of his willpower and a couple flicks of his wand, Sirius removed the Voice Altering charm and the Locking charm.

He waited in the same spot that past-Sirius had seen him standing. Sirius tried to center himself. Pushing the deeds that he had perpetrated in the last three hours into a distant and carefully controlled part of his mind. He brought calm by thinking of the good he could do with the information he had obtained.

Soon enough Shacklebolt led his younger self into the room. He watched dispassionately as they conversed, and eventually Kingsley left. Sirius removed his cloak after past-Sirius locked the room.

The confrontation between himself and his past self, occurred exactly as Sirius remembered. Though he thought wryly raw Mongoose liver was about the most disgusting thing he had ever tasted. He watched as past-Sirius disappeared.

He once again summoned the goggles, earmuffs, and gag. The dark wizard didn't seem to be a slobbering vegetable, worst luck. Nonverbally Sirius cast the Translating charm.

"What is your last recollection?" Sirius said quiet and firm. Ulric was no Occlumens, and once you knew what to look for, he was a bad liar.

"Speleoturizm , chto svin'i grudi dyuyma." _Caving that pig's chest in_. was what the charm translated the Russian into. Sirius knew that Ulric wasn't lying. The Half-Giant had a propensity for biting his lower lip before lying.

He rendered the man insensate yet again, and carefully pulled out his wand and tossed the unregistered wand onto the stone floor.

"Fuego!" The fire spell overwhelmed the protective enchantments on the wand and burned it to a crisp. Then acting quickly he vanished the ashes of the incriminating wand.

"_Finite Incatatem!_" Sirius cancelled the Locking Charm. He sat down at the interrogation desk and retrieved a quill and ink from his mokeskin pouch, and began drafting the report he would present to Minister Crouch on Monday morning.

The report included the full details that Ulric had provided him, of course he lied about how he had obtained them. He said that Ulric had been terrified of Azkaban and had capitulated at the offer of immunity.

Done writing his report, he left the Russian prisoner and made his way home. He Floo'd to12 Grimmauld Place. After he had inherited the house, Sirius had redecorated the house entirely, Naida had redecorated it once more after they had been married. Now it resembled a respectable home, not some den of dark wizards. Disposing of Walburga had been a very expensive endeavor, but as Lord Black he had money to burn; not to mention the enormous income that his silent partnership in Marauder's Inc. generated. Despite the tasteful décor, the house felt very empty.

Naida, his ex-wife, had moved back to Greece and Karina was spending the summer with her. She had left Sirius shortly after their daughter had started Hogwarts, saying that Sirius was really married to his work, and frighteningly obsessed with stopping a wizard who had died over a decade ago. Naida had never really believed that Voldemort was still out there, or truly grasped the terror he had engendered in Wizarding Britain, which had been two huge issue between the pair.

In the intervening years since their split dozens of witches had tried to secure him as a husband. The Black Family was one of the richest and purest lines in the world, and the opportunity to provide a son to carry on the name was a tempting prospect for _many_ families. Sirius had politely declined all the offers. Eventually he'd choose a new wife, this time it would be a political choice.

He took a long hot shower trying to wash his sins away, and then took a Dreamless Sleep potion. He quickly fell asleep in his huge four poster bed, quite alone.

The next morning he awoke groggy, an after effect of the potion, performed his morning workout, and took another much shorter shower. Sirius began quickly grooming himself. Kreacher had sat out his expensive formal robes, Mad-Eye's funeral would be at ten this morning. He and the House Elf had come to a silent compromise, Kreacher would do his duties expeditiously and Sirius would not call on him, unless there was an emergency.

He dressed himself and headed downstairs, the Auror ate his food mechanically while reading the Sunday edition of the _Daily Prophet_. The paper was speculating whether Harry Potter would enter public life now that his tutor had been murdered. The thought of Harry brought a genuine smile to Sirius' face and washed away all of the lingering malaise that he felt. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was nine thirty.

Getting up he examined himself in the hallway mirror, making sure that he looked the part of the third youngest Head of the Auror Office in history. Sirius didn't think himself vain, but image was important, especially if he was aiming to be Minister.

Satisfied, he spun on the spot and felt the familiar squeezing sensation of Apparition. His home had some _very_ nasty wards, but as the family Head he was freely able to alter them to meet his needs, including ignoring the Disapparition wards.

Suddenly, he felt the summer sun beating down on him as he saw the imposing pearly white gates of St. George's Cemetary before him. The cemetery was the exclusive resting place of Aurors who had served with honor and died in the line of duty. Mad-Eye had been a legend among the populace and an icon in the Auror Office, by all accounts his vigilance had prevented an outright massacre in Egypt. It was a fitting place for the revered Auror to rest. Sirius could only hope that when he passed, he would be half so well remembered.

As Sirius approached, he noticed Minister Crouch outside the gates surrounded by a gaggle of reporters and a detachment of eight aurors in their brown trench coats. The man seemed in his element energetically answering questions, and directing the flow of the questions masterfully. Many of the reporters turned toward Sirius as he approached, but none seemed to think it worth their while to abandon the Minister.

Then a multitude of loud popping sounds emanated from behind Sirius and everybody turned to see the newcomers.

Prongs, Moony, and Alice stood in front of Harry, Neville, Gideon, and Rose. The Potter family were all dressed in solemn attire befitting the occasion. They were flanked on all sides by two dozen of the blue robed Medjai.

The family had changed since he had seen them over a month ago. They were all sun tanned and wore expressions that could have been carved from stone. Which looked hilarious on the ten year old twins. Harry and Neville both seemed to have aged considerably, they seemed less boys and more young men. Their bodies had begun to fill out, but it was the look of seriousness that made Sirius' heart ache.

Immediately the reporters lost all sense of decorum and stampeded to interrogate the Potters. Comically leaving the Minister in their wake.

"Mr. Potter—"

"Harry—"

"Lord Pott—"

Prongs waved his wand and the lush green field was eerily quiet. The reporters' lips kept enthusiastically mouthing questions, but they didn't seem to notice that no sound was issuing for a couple of minutes. They soon stopped and seemed to shuffle about in embarrassment.

"I will issue a formal statement regarding recent events, after which my family and I will attend the funeral service for our dear friend. We will not be answering any questions, today." Prongs was doing his best Lord Potter, his voice rang with authority and he was the picture of composure. Barty could have taken lessons. Sometimes Sirius wondered if they had all been playing their roles for so long, that they hadn't _become_ their roles.

"The cowardly attack in Egypt was perpetrated by the African wing of the criminal organization known as the Thirteen. Through my contacts abroad, I have reason to believe that Voldemort" The reporters managed to look like fish as they silently cringed at the fearful name" used the syndicate, and their hatred of Minister Khaleed and what he represents, to once again strike at my family." Shock and horror were plain on the reporters' faces.

"To show that we are unafraid of terrorists, my children will enroll at Hogwarts to continue their magical education." Sirius knew that Dumbledore had used all of his considerable power to block the Potters from obtaining a new tutor, thus Harry and Neville had no choice but to attend Hogwarts. James smooth manipulation of the facts spoke volumes about his political acumen.

"Alastor Moody, died much as he had lived, as a hero. His critical forewarning allowed others to react in a timely manner. Without him, my family and I would not be standing here. We owe him a debt that can never be repaid, however we will live on as our friend would have wanted us to. His sacrifice shall forever be remembered." Lord Potter's voice quieted, and all present felt that the audience was at an end. Another flick of his wand and the silence was lifted from the assembled crowd.

Before the reporters could gather themselves, the Medjai forcefully scattered the press and marched toward the white gate which swung open to admit them, the Potters were safely ensconced inside the protective formation. Sirius and the Minister followed on their heels as the reporters belatedly began shouting questions, Barty seemed to have lost his appetite for the press. Neither man wanted to touch the firestorm that James' words were likely to spark.

Sirius followed James' retinue at a distance as they walked through the graveyard, passing the headstones of heroes. Feeling distinctly unworthy of walking on this hallowed ground, Sirius shouldered on. He may have been unworthy, but what he did was necessary.

The brutal interrogation of Ulric had been just as necessary as the public distance he and Prongs maintained. As far as anyone who wasn't a Marauder was concerned, James and Sirius' friendship had been severely damaged, when Sirius had sided with Dumbledore during a crucial vote of the Wizengamot. Despite their supposedly strained relationship, Sirius still fulfilled his duties as Harry's godfather and had grown very close to the young man.

His thoughts were cut short as the Potters stopped at the funeral site. The other attendees had already arrived. Most were distinguished contemporaries of Moody. Dumbledore stood behind a golden podium his eyes solemn, they seemed to rove over the newcomers, stopping on James and Harry for a significant amount of time.

Next to the ancient wizard, a portrait of Mad-Eye standing at attention, wearing formal Auror robes, scowled out at the crowd.

Sirius also recognized Minerva McGonagall, Neville's Grandmother Augusta Longbottom, his niece Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Rufus, Scrimgeour, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Everyone reacted to the arrival of the reclusive Boy-Who-Lived, some craned their necks or shuffled this way and that to get a better look, a few faces turned calculating gazes on the Harry, and Sirius marked those witches and wizards.

To his credit, Harry weathered their scrutiny with aplomb. His back remained straight and his head held high. Thankfully the assembled wizards respected the fallen wizard enough not to make a spectacle of the event, they kept quiet. The Potters, Sirius, and the Minister all took their places around the casket. It was closed casket of course, Moody's remains had been so disfigured by the blast, that only magic had been able to identify them.

Dumbledore began to speak.

"We have not come to cover Alastor Moody's grave, we have come to salute him. He was a valiant warrior and a true friend. From his time at Hogwarts to his last breath I knew Alastor to be a man of rare courage, and even rarer conviction. He gave his life to the service and protection of our great society." Dumbledore spoke eloquently, his voice easily capturing the attention of the funeral party and radiating a genuine heartfelt sadness. Sirius understood how he and the other Marauders had followed this man so blindly, his charisma was almost palpable.

"Without him, our world is a lesser and meaner place. At Hogwarts, Alastor proved to be an exceptional wizard. Before Voldemort's War, he excelled as an Auror, bringing many nefarious criminals to justice. During the Bad Years, Alastor was a pillar that tirelessly resisted the tide of madness and darkness. Afterwards, he took up the mentorship and protectorship of our most venerated citizen." All eyes turned to Harry for an instant, and then the ancient wizard continued to speak.

"We should endeavor to follow the example set by this man. We should fight the darkness wherever and whenever it may be found. Alastor Moody, I look forward to joining you on the next great adventure." Albus finished speaking, and nodded to a squat looking witch. She stepped forward and spoke.

"I remember meeting Alastor on the Hogwarts Express…" What followed was a series of Eulogies delivered by people who had known Mad-Eye over the years. They celebrated his many triumphs, laughed at his legendary idiosyncrasies, and just reveled in the unique force of nature that had been Alastor Moody. James and Sirius had even gotten up and offered their own fond anecdotes of training under the legendary Auror. As the last prearranged speaker sat down, and Dumbledore began to move to end the service, Harry's voice spoke out.

"Mr. Dumbledore, may I speak?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore's voice was light, but his eyes weighed The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be brief." Harry said as he seemed to gather himself. "I only had the privilege to know Mad-Eye for six years, far less time than most of you. In that short time, he made a huge impact upon me. I would've been, as he put it, a 'spoiled prince with a silver poon shoved up my arse' without him. He taught me more than just magic, he taught me how to see the world for what it really was without flinching, he taught me to say what I thought and deal with the consequences, and he taught me what being a hero means." Harry's voice was similar to Dumbledore's, though it managed to convey a purity that the old wizard couldn't match.

"I have heard many words on this day, rightly praising Mad-Eye, fondly remembering him, but precious little about the monsters who blew him to hell." Harry's voice had taken a ferocious tone, his countenance wrathful. "Since the assembled are content to let his murderers escape, I, Harry James Potter, heir to House Potter do swear thrice, on my name, on my magic, and on my life, to bring justice to those individuals and forces responsible for his death, if it is last thing I do." His voice was like a mighty hammer, each word a blow to the crowd. The vow carried the power of old magic in it. He had effectively declared war on _anyone_ who had a hand in Moody's death, Voldemort and the Thirteen included. All the while Harry blazed like a sun, his emotions and magic bleeding out of him, showing the sincerity of his words to those who could sense such things. In this vaunted crowd there were many such persons.

There was general disquiet as The-Boy-Who-Lived removed himself back into his father's retinue. The Medjai presented an implacable obstacle for any who wished to accost the Potters. The other members of the household had resigned looks on their faces, as if they had come to expect such things from Harry.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter for your impassioned words. With that I do call an end to this service. To Alastor Moody!" The old man raised his wand, eyes as hard as diamonds, and the other witches and wizards followed suit.

Soon the crowd began to disperse and Sirius after the retreating Potters, and Dumbledore was before them quicker than should have been possible, the Medjai seemed routed to the spot. Sirius reminded himself that Albus Dumbledore was not a wizard to be crossed lightly.

"James, Alice, Remus thank you for attending. Your presence has been sorely missed." As always Dumbledore's words were full of hidden meanings. "Mr. Potter, you and your siblings will be most welcome at Hogwarts. I believe the coming year will be most constructive."

"Yes, sir. I think it's safe to assume that it won't be boring, at the least." Harry replied in a neutral tone, seeming completely at ease. "My presence tends to make everyone's life a little more interesting."

"Oh, I'm sure it does. When you get to Hogwarts and are well Sorted, remind me to show you this fascinating mirror I found in Rome, this Atlantean tablet that I picked up in Mongolia, simply marvelous twelve thousand years old, and in as fine condition as the day it was wrought. Such fine Artificing has never been equaled. You should also meet my phoenix, Fawkes, picked him up in Egypt ages ago." Albus' eyes twinkled grandly. Strangely, Harry's cool and confident demeanor had evaporated when Dumbledore had nonchalantly mentioned Atlantis, and had continued to pale further with the mention of the phoenix. Sirius would have to investigate whether the canny old wizard had discovered something that could threaten Harry. "Well I must be off, it's been a pleasure."

After the powerful wizard had left, James caught Sirius' eye.

_Potter's Bluff. Six o'clock. Monday. Secret._

The foreign thought echoed in Sirius mind, and gave him a bit of a headache. There were stories about witches and wizards who could carry on entire conversations like this, Sirius didn't believe it for a moment. Short bursts were all he and James could accomplish.

_Mischief managed._ He sent in response.

He noticed that Neville and his grandmother, Augusta, were having a quiet conversation little ways away.

Then he turned to his godson, who seemed much older than his thirteen years. Not a year ago, the black haired wizard boy have launched himself at Sirius, or tried to prank him. Now he had fought in a battle, declared war on the two darkest forces in their world, and had nearly held his own in a verbal sparring match with Albus Dumbledore.

"Harry, how are you doing?"

"Padfoot, I'm alright. Spent a week in an Egyptian hospital because I 'trifled with magic beyond my ken', but I'm still breathing. How's the Auror-life?" Harry said, with a glance at James. The magic he spoke of was a _very_ popular discussion topic among Wizarding Britain, the Unspeakables were running around like nifflers, trying to figure out what exactly had happened.

"The dark blighters are slippery, but the 'thing about dark wizards is that they always give you a second chance!'" It was one of Moody's favorite sayings, and the pair said it in unison, then began laughing. When he was honestly laughing Harry appeared his age, and that made Sirius feel _good._

"Well we've got to get going, the Medjai get their knockers in a twist when we fall behind schedule." He said amusedly as he motioned at the neutral faced bodyguards. "Swing by soon."

"Will do kid." Sirius said waving goodbye. He watched the Potter's leave

Feeling inspired by his godson's courage he left for St. Mungo's, he had some injured Aurors to visit. Then it was off to the Ministry, there was work to be done.

The following morning at precisely nine o'clock the Minister's Advisory Council met. The senior members of the Ministry formed the council, and during the daily meetings they briefed the Minister on the important issues of the day. On this particular morning, Sirius was in the spotlight, as he relayed the general findings of his interrogation to Barty.

That morning, Barty seemed a little off his game at first, slow to pick up on some of the more subtle points that the intel provided. _Maybe he had a rough night?_ Sirius thought distractedly. He was far more interested in the meeting tonight, than whether Bartemius Crouch had a bad night or not.

The Minister congratulated him on the results of the interrogation, and gave him license to do whatever was necessary to destroy the criminal syndicate.

The rest of the day passed by in a flurry of meetings, as the taskforce decided how best to use the intel. Sirius also efficiently dealt with the other tasks that were within the purview of the Auror office. Delegating much of the workload to competent subordinates.

At four o'clock, he Apparated home, ate a quick meal, picked up some Gillyweed from his private store, and apparated into the Channel about two miles east of Potter's Bluff. The water was _cold_ and his teeth chattered as he chewed on the rubbery substance. He swallowed the Gilyweed and dove.

The temperature of the water became bearable as the plant's effects took hold. He sprouted gills, and was subsequently able to _breathe_. He swam for about forty minutes through the murky water, his wand providing a bubble of light in the otherwise pitch black watery world. The Gillyweed also seemed to make his body withstand the incredible pressure of the water.

During the swim, he thought about the façade that he had to put up for the world: that he and the Potters were estranged; that he didn't agree with their political agenda; that he thought Neville and Harry should have went to Hogwarts when they turned eleven. All to fool Dumbledore and the Minister, to gain the most advantageous position for his side. For James and Harry's side. James had said to think of it as a prank, and it had to be the biggest prank in history.

Soon he came to a door at the base of the British mainland. Tapping his wand against the door, Sirius thought, _Fortune favors the bold!_ The door swung open and admitted Sirius. After being kicked out of his house as a teen, the Potters had adopted him into the family and the door recognized his status.

He swam up for a long time, until he reached the hidden cove. He waited for the Gillyweed to lose its effect, when he felt the gills receding and the water's cold affecting him once more. He clamored out of the frigid sea water. The Cove was just a small pool surrounded by a rocky outcrop with a small stair that led upward to the castle proper.

About half way up the stone stairs he ran into a water fall, Sirius knew this was a continuation of the Thief's Fall at the Ward House. Unconcernedly he walked through the water, and felt the powerful purifying magic wash over him.

Another ten minutes and he came out of the staircase into a secured room, still far below the castle proper. The room was safe from any known means of magical surveillance and communication, it was the last redoubt of the Potters in time of danger. Normally Prongs, Moony, and Alice met him here, this was the room that Remus and the other werewolves used for their transformations, three nights a month. Though only the Marauders knew about, and could access the passageway.

This time Prongs, Moony, and Alice were joined by Neville and Harry, who all had their wands trained on him. They stood amongst plush chairs and sofas that had been transfigured for the meeting.

"Mischief Managed!" Sirius shouted as held up his hands. A salvo of detection wards hit him and quickly the looks of caution and suspicion turned into looks of joy as they verified who he was. For the second time in three days he ate the rather odious Mongoose liver.

"Padfoot!" James and Remus said simultaneously, as soon as he had swallowed the wretched liver. The three powerful and respected wizards, embraced each other like the boys they had once been. And for the first time in a long time Sirius felt whole.

"Get a room you lot!" Alice said, sounding not at all annoyed.

After a long moment, the three comrades pulled apart and composed themselves.

"So, what's so important that I had to swim half the Channel to come see you lot?" Sirius said, trying to sound put out, and failing miserably.

"It's past time that the Harry and Neville knew the truth about the Prophecy, about the Prank, and everything else. They've proven themselves in battle, and their minds can repel any attack. I'll be damned if we send him to Dumbledore ignorant of the truth. Plus there are some new realities that the Plan needs to incorporate." James said.

"Where do we start?" Harry questioned, his voice held firm resolve. Neville nodded. Both boys seemed like old souls, in that instant.

"We were losing the war when Albus Dumbledore interviewed Professor Sybill Trelawney, a fraud on most days, but on this day she made a prophecy, that threatened Voldemort." Alice's voice echoed through the room. "One of his spies, we don't know who, took the first part to his master. The Prophesy was thus: 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'"

James was lucky to have found Alice, she shared his obsession for Voldemort's defeat. It was probably the one component that made them a better couple than he and Naida had been.

Sirius carefully watched the boy's reactions: Harry seemed shell shocked; Neville took it in stride, as if he had suspected as much.

"So it could have been me?" Neville said.

"Yes, honey. If Voldemort chose to attack you, you might very well have been The-Boy-Who-Lived." Alice said kindly.

"Yet he chose you, Harry, and marked you with the Sowilo. And for the longest time our running theory was that your power was Sacrificial Love, something that is entirely foreign to Voldemort. But your affinity for the Atlantean tablets is entirely unique, throughout the history of the world, and your perspective Animagus form is a mythical creature mentioned in various ancient prophecies. So we have to rethink our hypothesis." Remus said, his voice taking on the lecturing characteristics of a teacher. Something bothered him about Remus' statement.

"Well, it doesn't change much does it?" Harry asked earnestly, overcoming his shock. "Voldemort's already tried to kidnap me this year, and I'm a sign of his failure. He was always likely to come after me." Harry's voice took on a more optimistic tone. "At least with the prophecy I know that I can stand a chance, so I'll just work twice as hard and look for every opportunity to find this 'power the Dark Lord knows not'."

"Harry, when Lily died, I promised to stand by your side, that you'd never be alone. You don't have to do this by yourself. We'll do whatever is in our power to help you." James' voice was intense.

"Yeah, Har you can count on us." Neville said sincerely. Harry gave the boy a look, Sirius knew that he hated the nickname. Everybody else nodded their affirmation.

"Hold on a second." Sirius said, his mind finally piecing together the puzzle that it had been worrying over for more than a day. "Harry can access the Atlantean tablets and potentially transform into some legendary creature, which is hardly surprising considering Harry's track record with the impossible, but Dumbledore seems to know about it, do we have a leak?" Sirius knew the loyalty of everyone in this room, but there were many other people who had ready access to Harry.

"There were Medjai present, or he may have been using some other method of spying. The whole ordeal happened spontaneously so we hadn't secured against the more obscure methods of observation." Moony responded.

"We should test those Medjai's reliability." Sirius said.

"That's impossible, they were both killed in the attack." Neville said.

Everybody was silent at that.

"We'll keep an eye out, but let's move on." Prongs said. "The Prank."

The adults went on to describe the elaborate plan that called for Sirius to become Minister, Marauder's Inc. to become the most powerful company in the world, the increased international cooperation of the greater wizarding world, Remus to become the ambassador to the 'dark creatures' of the world, James to become a wizard capable of standing toe-to-toe with Voldemort, and the molding of Harry and Neville into the best fighting wizards in the world.

Sirius thought, laid out like that "The Prank" seemed incredibly audacious, but they had made so much headway in just twelve years.

To The Prank they added the additional goals of finding and entering Atlantis, toppling the Thirteen, and breaking the Pureblood Movement once and for all.

After the plans were crafted, with surprisingly good insights from the teens. The lot of them just chatted amiably, and Sirius simply enjoyed the comfort of his friend's company. When he was with them, he _felt_ like a good man.


	6. Examinations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter 5**

**Examinations**

Harry sat cross-legged on his balcony, soaked from his morning run and forms, face carefully blank as he ran through his Occlumency exercises: Harry practiced isolating stray thoughts and emotions, doing complex arithmetic problems simultaneously, recalling specific memories on demand, organizing his thoughts into categories, and shoring up his mental defenses. The latter was particularly important today, for he and Neville would be flooing to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore were both accomplished Legilimens, and Harry would be damned if either wizard got inside his head.

September the first was a week away, but due to their extenuating circumstances it had been determined that the young wizards would arrive early. The week would be filled with tests and examinations of all sorts, the results of which would be used to decide what course of study was available to them.

Harry stood after he had run through his mental practice. He felt dissatisfied, everyone said that his Occlumency was top notch, but Harry _felt_ that there was another level that he couldn't quite reach. This bothered Harry immensely. When he took up a task, the young wizard expected nothing less than perfection from himself.

He went and took a quick shower. Despite his wariness of several of the more prominent residents of the school, Harry was extremely excited to see Hogwarts. His parents always had a ready story about the school, and said that their time at Hogwarts had been some of the best years of their life.

Tabby, always the attentive House-Elf, had laid out his shoes, undergarments, mokeskin rucksack, mithril dagger in its sheath, and his newly acquired black school robes. Unlike Neville his robes were completely unenchanted, since such enchantments would have interfered with his Magical Awareness.

Thinking of his robes, made him think of his run in with the Malfoys at Madam Malkins. He dove into the memory, it was another good Occlumency drill.

_He had been getting fitted for his robes at Madam Malkins when Draco Malfoy, a rather downtrodden House Elf, his Death Eater father, and his snobbish mother had walked in. The six Medjai seemed on the edge of action. Harry was happy that the rest of his family had been pulled to Flourish and Blotts by Neville, he needed practice dealing with these kind of situations by himself._

_"Ah, I see Lord Potter, has finally deigned to attend Hogwarts with the mere mortals." Draco Malfoy's voice was as annoying as ever. It made Harry want to shut the prat up for good._

_"Malfoy you're just upset that you'll have more competition. As I hear it, you've been getting routinely outperformed by a pair of witches: one is a muggle-born, the other won't give your family the time of day." Harry said, with more than a bit of a smirk. The boys had met a couple of times before, none were pleasant affairs._

_"Potter, I wouldn't be surprised if you're really a squib. The things your father pays those reporters to put in the paper. We're supposed to believe you slew a Nundu, and brought back the dead?" The younger Malfoy's voice was dripping with disdain._

_"Perhaps, when we arrive at Hogwarts I can give you a personal demonstration of my abilities." Harry said, mildly._

_"Was that a threat, Potter?" Lucius' silky voice broke in. His hand resting on his cane, which Harry could sense was far more than a mere walking stick._

_"No, Lord Malfoy. A threat would be me saying, 'I'll murder every Death Eater bastard who escaped Azkaban.'" Harry had put a little magic into his voice to accentuate his point. "See the difference?" He added the last bit flippantly._

_"Boy, you should be careful whom you cross, or you'll meet a sticky end, like your Mudblood mother, or that fool Moody." Lord Malfoy's voice was dangerous, his blue eyes were trying to dig into Harry. Harry bluntly turned aside the probe, and presented the dark wizard with a blank wall of consciousness over the surfaces of his mind. It was a beginner's defense, which let the intruder know that the target was using Occlumency. But it sent the message that Harry wanted to convey, it let Lucius know that he could protect his thoughts while hiding his true level of capability._

_"Unsolicited Legilimency is a crime punishable by up to five years in Azkaban. I'd have thought after you bribed, coerced, and lied your way out of a life sentence, you'd be careful to avoid that hell hole." He tapped his temple as he spoke to emphasize his point._

_Lucius gaze became cold, as he cast a glance about the shop, his eyes taking in the Medjai. Harry could almost see the calculations taking place under his frigid mask. Harry wished that the Death Eater would perform the wrong arithmetic, ending his sorry life was high on Harry's list of things to do._

_"I won't stand here and be slandered, come Draco we'll go get your books. We shall purchase your robes from another shop that doesn't cater to such riff-raff." He had decided that a retreat would allow him to save face, and prevent an unwinnable confrontation._

_"You won't have your guard dogs at Hogwarts, see you then." The younger Malfoy sent over his shoulder as he exited. Narcissa Malfoy just sniffed and left with her nose in the air._

_"And you won't be able to hide behind your bloody father!" Harry shouted as the door closed._

_Harry had soon exited with his robes, leaving a large tip to take the sting off their lost customers._

Harry carefully got dressed and checked his appearance in the talking mirror. Both his father and his godfather, insisted that appearance mattered.

"Harry, dear, you look very dashing, the girls won't be able to keep their hands off you!" The mirror said in a simpering tone. It had behaved like this ever since Harry had pranked it. It had made a rude comment about his unmanageable hair, and the young wizard had responded by coated the mirror in Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and cast a silencing charm on the mirror. After a day, he had removed the charm and the powder, the mirror had been much more amiable ever since.

"Thank you, Dorothea. I'll see you when I return from Hogwarts." Harry said congenially.

He double checked his wand, his rucksack, his silver flask, and his knife. Both the wand and the knife were securely fastened in their respective holsters, and easily accessible. The flask was in his trouser pocket. He slung his mokeskin rucksack over his shoulder and headed down to breakfast.

The one part of his mind, Harry had dubbed as Harry-one, remained constantly alert, wary of attack. Another part of his mind, Harry-two, contemplated the last few days. With Mad-Eye's death the boys were prohibited from using magic outside Hogwarts, however the boys had decided to be careful who saw them casting, and merrily carried on about their routine.

Since the attack, Harry and Neville, in addition to their normal training sessions, had been pursuing two skills relentlessly. The Animagus Transformation and Apparition.

There was a clear reason why so few wizards obtained such a useful skill, as the Animagus transformation. It was_ hard_ and time consuming. The transformation required skillful use of wandless transfiguration, the brewing of a very complex potion, and the mastery of a powerful and unique charm. Despite these impediments, Harry was dedicated. If fucking Peter Pettigrew could become one, Harry was determined to do so as well.

His stepmother had insisted on Harry and Neville taking Apparition lessons while in Egypt, so for the two weeks before they returned to Britain Neville had started practicing the skill daily. After a week in the hospital, and feeling like a caged animal finally set free, Harry had been allowed to join. He had surprised their instructor by mastering the spell; Neville hadn't quite mastered it, before it was time to return.

The meal was lively as the family chatted about Hogwarts, but there felt like there was void. Not for the first time, Harry missed Mad-Eye's gruff comments and cynical jokes. The table seemed incomplete without the old Auror.

Harry carried on Mad-Eye's legacy by non-verbally casting detection charms on every morsel before he so much as touched it_, "Constant Vigilance!"_

As the meal ended, Harry's stepmother grabbed both young men in a very tight hug.

"You boys look after one another. I expect the top marks!" She said looking between them. "And for Merlin's sake, don't burn down the castle!"

"Yes, Mum." Harry and Neville said in identical tones of long suffering obedience.

"Alright Alice, don't want the boys to be late. Come on boys let's go." James said with a chipper voice.

"Rose, Gideon we'll see you in a week." The eleven year olds looked put out that they couldn't go to Hogwarts early too. Gideon especially looked upset, with rings forming around his eyes as if he had been having trouble sleeping.

"We'll definitely hold off on looking for any secret passages until you get there." Harry's words made them visibly brighten.

The twins came over and hugged their older siblings, wishing them luck on their exams.

Moony just thumped each boy on the back and said, obviously holding back emotion, "Make the Marauders proud."

The House Elves had been summoned, and they cheerily teleported the trio to the Ward House. Harry's Magical Awareness had developed greatly, and he could sense that the _wrongness_ permeating the House Elves was similar to the Imperius curse. Though the corruption seemed ancient and much more pervasive than the Unforgivable.

Harry pondered who could have trumped the Imperius, as the party moved to the Floo. A full complement of Medjai stood surrounding the Floo. The boys' trunks were sitting by the fireplace.

"Don't worry about your trunks they've been sent on ahead!" James said as he hugged both boys. "Good-bye boys, have fun and don't let Snivellus get you down! Remember to say 'Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.', and that I want a Patronus the moment both of you arrive."

Neville went to the Floo and grabbed a handful of the powder and there it in the fire. As the flames turned green, James stepped into the flames and spoke clearly, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office".

Harry threw his powder into the flames and they turned green, turning to face Hassan, he said, "Honor to the Medjai." One by one they nodded in respect. "Honor to the young lord."

With a last glance at his father, he strode into the green flames and shouted, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office."

Floo was Harry's least favorite method of travel, the disorienting spinning sensation was quite disconcerting. He by far preferred travel by broomstick, not surprising since he _loved_ flying. Portkeys were faster. Apparition was far faster and more versatile. He couldn't wait to blend the skill with his dueling style, though both Hogwarts and Potter's Bluff had Disapparition Jinxes, so he didn't know when he would get the opportunity to practice.

Harry landed and concentrated on not making a fool out of himself. He barely stumbled, as he emerged into one of the three most intriguing rooms he had ever been in his life. His senses were on high alert as he surveyed the space.

It was a large and fascinating circular room. Full of interesting devices that emitted odd sounds and even odder magic. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were awake, and staring with rapt attention at Harry from their frames. Dumbledore's Familiar, a majestic phoenix with scarlet and gold plumage, sat on a perch preening himself.

Neville was likewise scanning the room from the other side of the fireplace.

A stool with a dingy looking hat resting on its seat, sat before a large and magnificent desk. The Hat was an extremely powerful artifact of some kind. Harry could feel incredible complicated magic coursing through it.

Behind the desk, Albus Dumbledore sat on his throne-like chair, blue eyes twinkling madly over half-moon glasses. Harry was sure that those glasses were enchanted, a wizard of Dumbledore's caliber surely could correct his vision, if need be.

He took in the other occupants of the room at a glance. Standing on the ancient wizard's right hand was the ever stern Minerva McGonagall, who he knew from photographs and stories. The Head of Gryffindor House was not one to cross. That hadn't stopped the Marauders from terrorizing Hogwarts, and it certainly wouldn't stop Harry. They still took absurd joy in calling her Minnie!

A tiny excitable little man stood on a step stool, Harry recognized Filius Flitwick from the few Marauder's Inc. functions that the professor had attended with his nephew, Filian. Harry quite liked him, and thought the feeling was mutual.

On Dumbledore's left hand stood a greasy haired wizard, whose hooked nose anchored a face locked in a cold sneer. The Marauders had described Severus Snape in lurid and hilarious detail. Snivellus seemed to glare at Harry and Neville with varying degrees of dislike. Harry _itched_ to pull his wand. The Death Eater, there was no such thing as former Death Eater in Harry's book, was one of the reasons that Harry's entrance into Hogwarts had been delayed.

Another squat looking witch, rather unremarkable in the present company, stood on Snape's other side. She had an easy and open smile, and dirt on her robes and under her fingernails. Harry immediately liked her earthy charm.

"Ah Mr. Potter, now that you have joined us we will commence with the Sorting." The aged wizard gestured to the tattered hat before his desk. "The Sorting Ceremony is for first years only and is usually accompanied by a song, unfortunately The Sorting Hat has refused to compose a song for you two, citing the terms of his contract." Harry vaguely wondered what kind of contractual considerations a thousand year old hat could possibly have. "So I will leave the introduction of Hogwarts and her houses to the four House Heads. Professo Sprout, if you would."

"Just a moment, Professor." He said, trying to politely forestall the squat witch. "I was told to contact my father as soon as we arrived. It'll just take a moment."

Harry conjured up the thought of playing Quidditch with his father and mother underneath the shining sun, his siblings down on the green grass. The pure joy of the moment suffused him, and he withdrew his wand with a flick of his wrist.

"Expecto Patronum!" The brilliant White Crown Phoenix burst out of his wand, its color was a silver so bright that it was almost white. Harry's breath was taken away yet again by the beautiful lines and sheer _majesty_ of the bird. Harry shook himself and said, "We're alright dad."

The bird bowed and flew out the window.

Harry turned to see the staff regarding him and said, "Sorry, Professor! I guess you can start now." Professor Sprout just smiled before she spoke.

"Helga Hufflepuff valued hard work, loyalty, camaraderie, and inclusion, above all else. I would not be wrong in describing Hufflepuff as the friendliest, most decent and most tenacious house of the four. She was the glue that held the other four together, only after her death did Slytherin leave. We have had our share of famous witches and wizards in our near thousand years of existence. A great man once said, 'Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration.' This is sums up my House better than I ever could. All who come to Hufflepuff, will find a place that they can call home." Professor Sprout finished her speech with a welcoming smile.

"Lady Ravenclaw was the driving force behind the formation of this school." The tiny professor's voice drifted from his stool. "Her love of learning and wisdom, inspired the other great magi of her day to found Hogwarts. In her house the clever, wise, and curious will find fertile ground for their minds and magic to grow. Innovators, inventors, magnates, and ministers have all issued from our tower. Any who truly seek knowledge out, will find a comfortable place in Ravenclaw!" The part-goblin finished excitedly.

"The House of Salazar Slytherin is quite simply the best. Only the most cunning and ambitious are allowed to claim the house as their own." Severus Snape's disdainful voice clearly said, that he thought neither boy was worthy. "The drive to excel pushes Slytherins above and beyond the other houses. Merlin excelled under the snake banner, as did many other exceptional witches and wizards. We are loyal, but to only those who deserve loyalty. We are clever and studious, when the situation calls for it. We do not recklessly place ourselves in peril, but we do not fear confrontation. If you are worthy, Slytherin will set you on the path to greatness." Snape's speech ended with a dark scowl for both boys.

"Godric Gryffindor was the greatest duelist of his day." Professor McGonagall's said, her Scottish accent carrying crisply across the room. "He fought in a dozen wars across three continents, though he lost a battle or two, he never lost a war." Godric Gryffindor was Harry's idle. "The Red Lion, the commons called him. But it was not for avarice, glory, or greed that he fought, Gryffindor only fought for causes that he believed were just. That is what he valued most in his students, courage. The courage to do what is right, no matter the cost; the courage to look at darkness and not shy away; the courage to be afraid but still act. Those who are daring, chivalrous, and unafraid of meeting their potential will do well in the house of the lions." The Scottish witch finished, looking at both Harry and Neville with a grave expression.

"The Sorting Hat awaits, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville looking unaccountably nervous walked over to the time worn hat, he picked it up and sat down. Then after a moment of hesitation, in which he and Harry shared a look, he put the hat on his head. They sat there for long minutes, Harry wondered what could be taking so long. Neville was bookish and loyal, but he was also one of the bravest people Harry knew. More to the point, his animagus form was a damned _lion._

As he stood there, his scar started throbbing, using Occlumency he _became_ a Harry Potter whose head didn't feel like it was going to explode. He was still aware of the pain, but it couldn't touch him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, as Neville shakily took the hat off and handed it to Harry. Harry made himself walk straight backed and proud to the stool, he would not show weakness to Severus Snape. Unwilling to turn his back on Snape he sat down facing the Professors, and placed the hat on his head.

_"Better late than never… eh… Mr. Potter. My… my… what do we have here? Most interesting! An excellent mind… tons of courage… hard working… loyal… ambitious, it's all here in your head. Incredible talent and the unrelenting drive to fulfill your vast potential. You would do well in any of the houses." _The Hat said within his mind, completely ignoring Harry's Occlumency shields.

_"If it is greatness you seek, Salazar's House is where you will find it. You could be the greatest of them all. Greater than Godric, Salazar, Merlin, Tom, or Albus._" Harry had no idea who 'Tom' was but he recognized the other names well enough._ "Slytherin would push you towards your ambition. In the House of the Snakes, you would not be mollycoddled, you would be constantly tested and strengthened. Do not fear power. Ideals without power and the ability to utilize power, are mere rhetoric."_ The hat paused, waiting for Harry's reply.

_Ambition is not a sin, I'm well aware of that fact. I intend to do great things. But Slytherin is the house of my enemy. I will try to sway it from his grasp, if I can, but I must do so from outside _Harry thought, willing the Hat to shout GRYFFINDOR!

_"Gryffindor is a fine choice, but like Godric, I fear that it will lead you on a path filled with war and terror. That your zeal for conflict would shatter the world."_ The Hat's voice had subtly changed, and showed genuine fear.

_"In Slytherin, Parselmouths are revered. There you would learn the cunning acquisition and application of true power. It is true that most so-called dark wizards come from Slytherin, but that is only because they are driven to push the boundaries of magic. The mob fears most what it does not understand. Should you turn from miraculous child savior to all powerful wizard, you will learn this fact well."_ This was all said in a much more convincing, cajoling tone.

_There is a war coming, I can't fight it from within Slytherin. I would never be able to face my foe properly, always waiting for the snake at my back to strike!_ Harry thought determinedly.

_"Well, when things go south, don't come whining to me. Better be—_GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry felt the tension drain from his body, incredibly thankful that he had avoided Slytherin. He glanced at his watch-that-was-not-a-watch. The Sorting had taken a full fifteen minutes, probably some sort of Hogwarts record. Then he took the hat off his head, and seeing the perplexed looks on the professor's faces as they began clapping, he gave a small bow. Snape's rising sneer was all the reward he needed.

"Well done, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter! Well done, indeed." The Headmaster said as he clapped enthusiastically. Then, Harry _felt_ the wizened wizard _wandlessly _and non-verbally conjure a pair of scarlet and gold chairs in front of his desk. The legs of the chairs scuttled back to give the young wizards room to sit down comfortably. Harry understood the message quite clearly, they were dealing with a wizard who might as well have been a demi-god, so great was his magical ability. "Please boys, do have a seat. Lemon drop?"

The boys declined the proffered lemon drops simultaneously, as they took their respective seats. Harry suspected the candy contained some potion, perhaps Veritaserum. Harry couldn't quite enjoy the very comfortable chair, he felt more than a little uneasy sitting in a Death Eater's presence.

"Filius, Pomona, Severus, thank you for your time, I'll see you all at lunch. I'm told the House-Elves are outdoing themselves to welcome our new fourth years!" The three professors left at the dismissal. Snape sending a death glare at Harry as he glided past him. Every inch of Harry's being fairly shouted for him to act, that having Snape behind him was a terrible idea. Harry exercised his considerable will power to remain seated, and tried to appear nonchalant. When he heard the door close, some of the tension flowed out of him and he refocused on Albus Dumbledore.

"The coming week will be very eventful for the both of you! There will be practical and theoretical examinations, in the subjects you have chosen to study. These tests will allow us to accurately assess your knowledge and skill-levels." Dumbledore paused for a moment, as Fawkes flew from his perch to land on Harry's knee. Harry gently stroked the magnificent bird, and the Firebird softly trilled its enchanting song. Harry felt a familiar warmth flood into him, it was the same reassuring feeling that he associated with his father's golden hand. Pushing that thought away, Harry refocused on the Headmaster. Blue eyes were raptly staring at the pair of them.

"Well it seems that Fawkes has a definite affinity for not only your father, but for you as well!" The old wizard shook himself and said, "That's neither here nor there, though. Back to business! Depending on how well you do, we may assign tutors to help you catch up, or offer you advanced coursework, whatever the case may be." Harry knew that his father had exacted this concession from Dumbledore as a condition of their attending Hogwarts, the elder Potter had threatened to send them to Beauxbatons with family friends, if the old man had not conceded the point. Harry wouldn't have minded spending a year in close proximity with Fleur Delacour, any red blooded male could admit that she was extremely attractive, but Hogwarts was universally acclaimed as the finest school in the world.

"Do either of you boys have any questions for me?" Dumbledore finished.

Harry glanced between the two professors, feeling the pressure of what he was about to do weighing upon him.

"Yes Headmaster, would you share what you know about the White Crown Phoenix, Atlantis, the Prophecy, how Voldemort survived the rebounded Killing Curse, or anything magic that could help to destroy Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" Harry _forced_ his voice to nonchalance, as if he was discussing something as innocuous as Quidditch.

The young wizard had argued this point with the Marauders ferociously and at great length. He believed that Dumbledore, while human and fallible, was too smart, too experienced, and too canny to be outplayed by a fourteen year old wizard in any measurable way.

Mad-Eye had always said that the Headmaster hoarded secrets and was extremely subtle in his machinations. Furthermore, Harry's father said that Albus affected an outward air of eccentricity to hide the calculating mind within.

Harry had decided to take the direct route. Including McGonagall, their Head of House, was a way to provide an effective buffer between the boys and the Headmaster, and the Marauders' stories made her sound like a potential ally.

Dumbledore's expression was momentarily dumbfounded, all twinkle gone from his visage, Harry heard Professor McGonagall gasp and Fawkes' song rang in his ears, but all of his attention was for the powerful wizard before him. Harry felt elated for just the reaction his words had elicited. Despite his immense power, Albus Dumbledore was mortal! Then the look turned calculating, and he spoke.

"Minerva, if you would escort Mr. Longbottom to Gryffindor tower. Mr. Potter and I must have a private conversation, it seems." The Scottish witch shot Dumbledore a questioning look, but moved to obey. Nevilled didn't move.

"Respectfully Headmaster, per section H, Chapter 3, paragraph 2 of the Hogwarts Charter any student meeting with the Headmaster has the right to have their Head of House present. Further I was deeply affected by the prophecy in question, and along with Harry wish to become an Animagus. I would like to stay." Neville said all of this very quickly, with his voice only cracking slightly. Harry thought the boy was brilliant, and quickly cut-in.

"Neville's right, sir. I request my Head of House's presence here, and if you send Neville away, I'll just tell him whatever we talked about later." Harry finished with a mischievous smirk. This was one of the many plans the boys had fomented over the summer, though they didn't know such an opportunity would present itself so quickly.

"Mr. Po—"Professor McGonagall's angry voice started.

"It's quite alright, Minerva. It looks like the boys have got me firmly boxed in." The old man looked entirely too pleased for someone who was 'boxed in'. "If you'd like to have a seat." Dumbledore gestured and Harry and Neville's chairs were levitated apart to make space, while a third cushy chair was conjured. As McGonagall took her seat, giving both boys reproachful looks. Harry thought the Headmaster was just showing off now, he had sensed the wizard cast three spells _simultaneously_ without wand or word.

Then Albus took out his wand, and Harry worried for an instant that all three of them were going to have their memories obliviated, and rewritten with the false memory charm. Knowing that he had no chance of directly opposing the wizard's magic, he instead focused on strengthening his Occlumency shields in the vain hope that they could withstand a charm of that magnitude.

Instead, Dumbledore merely waved his wand to vanish the fireplace, and continued to cast a dozen vastly complicated and powerful spells, nonverbally. Harry sensed the magic and vaguely associated them with privacy spells. As soon as he was done, Dumbledore spoke.

"Harry, Neville, if I can call be familiar?" The old man watched Harry and Neville nod and continued. "There are things that should only be spoken of quietly and with the utmost care." He paused to let his words sink in.

"Atlantis and the White Crown Phoenix are indelibly linked. Both did in fact exist, and were subsequently lost in a catastrophe, that probably ended the last ice age, around 12,000 years ago. Little of substance is known of either, though both are postulated to be ascended forms of modern day phoenixes and wizards, respectively." He paused again, seemingly to think and then continued. "The White Crown Phoenix is believed to be one of the Lost Pillars of Magic. While Atlantis had magic that far surpassed today's finest wizards. The fact that you have such close links to both, ignites my deepest interest. If you would like my assistance with this investigation it is freely given."

Harry nodded. Dumbledore was being much more forthright than Harry had dared hope. The assistance of the greatest wizard of the age would help immensely.

"As to the Prophecy, I can only express my great disappointment that your parents did not heed my counsel, and told you the prophecy's contents. It is a very great burden for children to have to bear." Normally Harry would have been incensed that _anyone_ wanted to keep him ignorant of _anything_, and being called a child set his teeth on edge. However Dumbledore's sincere tone of mourning gave Harry a moment of pause. The old man actually sounded like he genuinely _meant_ what he was saying. McGonagall seemed to know that there had been some sort of prophecy made, since she was taking the conversation in stride.

"Sir, we only found out a couple of weeks ago, after Voldemort attacked us in Egypt." Harry saw Professor McGonagall shiver slightly at the name, as he found himself defending his parent's choice. "Besides, I've been preparing for Voldemort's return for as long as I can remember, at least now I know I stand a chance!"

"What's done is done, I suppose. I must impress upon you all the import of this prophecy. Whether it had power to begin with is immaterial, Voldemort believes in it, thus he has given it power. One of his Death Eaters was only able to hear the first part of Professor Trelawney's prophecy before he was removed, so Voldemort remains ignorant of the complete prophecy. Voldemort or his agents will go to great lengths to gain full knowledge of the prophecy." Dumbledore's voice was very grave.

"Headmaster, which Death Eater heard the prophecy?" Neville's voice was more serious than Harry could ever recall.

"Ah, my lad forgive me, but that must remain a secret. We old codgers must be able to retain some secrets, after all." Harry was _not_ pleased with that answer, but decided not to press further. Casting a sidelong glance at Neville, Harry noticed that his stepbrother was livid. When they found out which Death Eater had basically marked their families for eradication, there would be justice.

"As for your other questions, I have theories, but nothing substantive. Voldemort spent years undergoing dangerous, immoral, and forbidden transformations. When he returned to Wizarding Britain he was barely recognizable as human. So changed by the Dark Arts was he, that he could survive his own dreaded curse." The Headmaster seemed to age as he spoke. "After years of research there is nothing concrete that I can tell you. I offer you my solemn oath that if I should discover the means by which Voldemort escaped death, I shall immediately inform the both of you."

Harry felt let down. The greatest wizard alive had spent more than a decade searching for Voldemort's Achilles Heel and found nothing. What chance did Harry and Neville have? He would just have to accept the old wizard's oath, and keep working.

"As far as magic, I know much powerful magic that neither of you are prepared to learn. Perhaps with time and maturity I can trust you with this power. Perhaps not." Harry nodded, great wizards didn't just hand out their secrets like candy. Giving a neophyte wizard a truly powerful spell was akin to giving a babe a muggle bomb. This had been the one area that Harry had been expecting to be refused. Well Harry would have to find his own path to power. "Though if you prove to be sufficiently adept at Transfiguration, we can make arrangements to help you with your Animagus training. Truthfully there is no need to register until you are of age, the Ministry seems to have a low opinion of underage witches and wizards." Harry shared an ecstatic glance with Neville, outright assistance with the Animagus process would move their timetable up by months.

"Mr. Potter, now that I've answered some of your questions. Will you do me the same favor?" Harry gave a half nod.

"How long has your scar been hurting?" Dumbledore's eyes seemed to gleam in morning's light, his face seeming ancient and terrible.

_How the hell did he know?!_ Harry though a little panicked. The pain had happened on and off in Egypt, directly prior to the attacks, he had taken them as mere headaches and told no one. When they had started up again upon entering Britain, realizing their import, he had told his father, and only once they were in the secure room under Potter's Bluff.

"When I returned to England from Egypt it immediately started hurting. In fact, it hurt just before the attack in Egypt. We believe that it hurts when Voldemort is in the same geographical region. I've got it under control." Harry said filling a little wrung out, he noticed Neville's startled glance. Telling the old man about the scar hurting was most definitely not part of the plan.

"I can see that, Harry. Most impressive use of Occlumency, ten points to Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall was looking between Harry and Dumbledore like they were strange creatures out of some child's story, Harry was use to that look. "It seems that in one form or another Voldemort has returned to Britain. Do tell me if your scar hurts much more sharply, I suspect that will signal that our foe is close at hand." Harry again nodded. Professor McGonagall very visibly shuddered at the mention of Voldemort being back in the country.

"Please indulge another question from an old man. How did you return half a dozen wizards who had been slain to life?" Professor Dumbledore questioned in a calm tone. Minnie made a strangled gasp that sounded distinctly like a cat who had been doused in water.

"Ah, sir, forgive me, but that must remain a secret. We young ruffians must be able to retain some secrets, after all." Harry parroted the wizard's words back at him. The magic of the Potter Grimoire made it impossible for him to share the spell with anyone who was not a Potter, but the old man didn't need to know that.

"Very good Harry, very good!" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled madly. "Minerva will show you to Gryffindor Tower, you'll have the rest of the morning to get settled in. Your lessons will start after lunch! You have free reign of the castle, but please do not go out onto the grounds, we're updating the wards and they are quite dangerous, as of this moment." Dumbledore released his spells as he finished.

The boys and the Deputy Headmistress rose and proceeded to leave the amazing room, the Headmaster looked lost in his thoughts as they left. An impressive revolving staircase deposited them in front of fearful looking gargoyle.

Upon passing the stone guardian, as he felt an astonishing weight touch his sixth sense, Harry immediately split his mind to _three_ separate tasks. He could do three splits easily, more severely taxed his mind.

Harry-one was raptly listening to the Deputy Headmistress' explanation of each room; Harry-two was sweeping each room for intruders, marking points of ingress and egress, memorizing the route, and looking for defensible positions and possible weapons; Harry-three was trying to take in the staggering magic of the place, and it was the most marvelous and awe-inspiring feeling Harry had ever experienced, Hogwarts felt _alive_.

The Headmaster's office must have had some _very_ powerful wards to keep Harry from sensing the true nature of Hogwarts.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom. While you did not technically break any rules, rudeness and impertinence will not be tolerated. We operate on a House Points system here, unbecoming behavior shall lose you points and earn you the ire of your Housemates. Do you understand?" Harry-one plastered on his best look of contrition. It seemed to mollify the professor. Harry knew he was good with people. His natural charisma and the careful training that he had received, made interacting with most people very easy.

After both boys nodded their assent, she led the two new Gryffindors down two floors through winding corridors lined with portraits and lit by torches. They followed her to just outside the aptly named Great Hall, and then led them on a course through the ever changing staircases to the seventh floor. Harry-one noted that they stopped before a portrait of a corpulent woman in a pink dress taking her ease.

"This is Ms. Dawn French, a former Gryffindor and the guardian to Gryffindor Tower. The students rudely refer to her as the Fat Lady. To gain entrance you must tell her the password. It is and will remain Red Lion, until the other students arrive." The Fat Lady bowed and the portrait swung open. "At which time it be will changed, you'll need to ask a prefect to learn the new password."

The Gryffindors walked into a circular room full of squashy armchairs, tables, and a large empty bulletin board. The window looked out onto the grounds of the school, and a large fireplace dominated the opposite wall. The walls were decorated with rich scarlet tapestries that depicted witches and wizards doing all kinds of activities.

"This is the Gryffindor Common room. You shall spend a great amount of time in this room, it could even be described as the heart of Gryffindor house. Your dormitory is through that door, your trunks have already been taken up." McGonagall said as she gestured to one of two doors. "During the holidays, meals are served from seven to eight, twelve to one, and five to six. It is already ten thirty, so go ahead and settle in. As the Headmaster said, you'll have your first exam after lunch. It will cover History of Magic with Professor Niall, as it will be the one of the tests that has no practical component." She paused for a moment and then continued. "Here is your time table for the week, I'll see you boys shortly, and for heaven's sake don't burn down the tower." Harry-one pondered why everyone thought they would burn Hogwarts down, and then looked at the parchment.

_8/25 Thursday: Lunch - History of Magic - Dinner_

_8/26 Friday: Breakfast - Herbology (written) - Lunch - Herbology (practical) - Dinner_

_8/27 Saturday: Breakfast - Arithmancy - Lunch - Ancient Runes - Dinner_

_8/28 Sunday: Breakfast - Charms (written) - Lunch - Charms (practical) - Dinner_

_8/29 Monday: Breakfast - Transfiguration (written) - Lunch - Transfiguration (practical) – Dinner Astronomy (Minight)_

_8/30 Tuesday: Breakfast - Magical Creatures (written) - Lunch - Magical Creatures (practical) - Dinner_

_8/31 Wednesday: Breakfast - Potions (written) - Lunch – Potions (practical) _

_9/1 Thursday: Breakfast - DADA (written) – Lunch - DADA (practical) – Sorting Feast_

Harry glanced about the Gryffindor Common Room and felt that a piece of home had been transported to Hogwarts. Taking a deep breathe he reintegrated the multiple Harrys and sat down on a sofa, and relaxed. Of course, his back was to a corner all three entrances and the window in sight, anything else would have been madness. Neville did likewise, though he pulled a book out of his rucksack and began reading.

The next couple days ran together as Harry and Neville found their routine. The boys would wake up at 0630, as was their custom, and workout in the common room, since the grounds were off limits. Then the boys would head down for the sumptuous meal under the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Since there were so few diners they all ate at one table. Though Harry and Neville were the only consistent attendants, the other occupants of the castle had preparations to make for the start of term.

After Breakfast, the professor for the appropriate subject would lead them to their classroom, where Harry and Neville would, using special anti-cheating quills, complete the written portion. Each exam was self-grading and self-fabricating. They would start out with a question appropriate for an average third year, and depending upon the quality of the response, the questions would either become harder or easier.

So far they had taken History of Magic, Herbology, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Neville had done extremely well on all four subjects, in particular Herbology where Professor Sprout had praised him for his Mandrake planting technique. Harry had mixed results: History that had pertained to wars or politically important events Harry had demolished, the other questions had given him more trouble; the written portion of Herbology had been difficult, luckily he had a good grasp of the more important magical flora and fauna, however he had worked in Neville's Greenhouse enough time to do very well in the Practical; during both Arithmancy and Runes, Harry thanked Godric for his visit to Egypt and the cursed Necropolis, he had done exceedingly well thanks to the Curse Breakers teachings.

Finally after an excellent dinner, the boys would explore the castle, peruse the famed Hogwarts Library, study for the upcoming exams, work on their Animagus transformations, or engage in dueling practice in one of the abandoned classrooms.

Now it was lunchtime on Sunday, and they had just completed their written Charms exam. Harry had done exceptionally well. It helped that he had been studying his mother's Charms texts, complete with extremely helpful annotations, since the day after he received his wand.

Flitwick had been hopping up and down after he read Harry's answer regarding the relationship between the Memory charm and the False Memory charm.

The idea had been his mother's really. In her seventh year text, she pondered why they had two charms when one charm could work. Harry had spent weeks working on the problem.

Harry had simply stated that he had inverted and conjoined the center of each charm's wand motion, created a new incantation, and _simultaneously _focused on removing a selected memory and implanting a new memory; thereby creating a spell that did the work of both charms more quickly and efficiently.

Harry finished off an excellent Corned Beef sandwich, took a swig out of his silver flask, and nodded when he found Neville's eyes.

Both boy's set off towards the third floor Charms corridor, with a visible bounce in their step. They arrived without incident to find Professor Flitwick sitting in a small chair that seemed exactly scaled to the tiny man.

The classroom had three rows of empty desks, all facing the professor's table, behind which sat a much larger upholstered chair. Two blackboards flanked the teacher's desk. A pair of windows let the midday sun filter in. It was a cheery sort of place, befitting the cheery professor.

"Welcome lads, I confess I'm excited to see what you can do, based on your written test. Let's get to it!" The excitable wizard said.

They proceeded to run through two dozen charms. The boys enlarged and shrank pillows, levitated pillows, summoned and banished the pillows, set the pillows on fire, and summoned water to put the flames out. Harry decided to show off a bit, and did it all nonverbally. It had been an amazing time, using magic purely for amusement not for some grand scheme, had been a very novel feeling.

Then the tiny professor conjured a Basset Hound and a small red ball, about three feet apart. Harry felt him use the false memory charm nonverbally on the dog, and it cringed away from the ball.

"Mr. Potter, I have implanted a memory in the transfigured dog that has caused the dog to fear the red ball. I want you to cast the spell you explained on the dog." Flitwick was bouncing again.

Harry met the dog's eyes and easily slipped into the constructs mind with a push of Legilimency, and found the implanted memory. It was Draco Malfoy hitting the dog on the nose with the ball, repeatedly. Then he used his Occlumency skills to _focus_ on removing the memory while at the same time implanting the memory of the dog playing a rousing game of fetch with the ball. He held the thoughts in his mind.

"Delerent cogitari falsum!" he said and made a complicated motion with his wand that incorporated elements from both spells. A silver light struck the dog, and after a confused moment the Basset Hound ran over and picked up the ball, happily bringing it to Harry. As Harry threw it and the dog went to fetch, Flitwick happily vanished both hound and ball disappeared.

"Well done Harry, well done. It has been much too long since I have seen such genius at so young an age. That was at least a Newt level spell, not to mention your incorporation of both Occlumency and Legilimency." Flitwick was _vibrating_ with enthusiasm.

"Mr. Longbottom you did and exemplary job, especially in your theoretical work! How the hat failed to place you both in Ravenclaw I'll never know!" The professor fidgeted happily. "I should say that all three of us will be enjoying the pleasure of one another's company over the coming year, I shall insist that I furnish you with extra lessons. I'm afraid Fourth year Charms will be mostly revision for you both."

Harry left the classroom immensely satisfied, though Neville kept giving him an odd look. If he didn't know better, he would have called it envy. Neville had done better on all the exams, except for Charms thus far. In Harry's mind, if anyone ought to be jealous, it was Harry. He had to be missing something, but he couldn't guess what. He'd have to ponder the situation.

The next afternoon, the young wizards stood in the Transfiguration classroom, and Harry thought the Transfiguration written portion had been an unmitigated disaster. The young wizard hadn't used actual theory in years when performing his transfigurations. All he needed to perform Transfiguration, was to focus on the object's current and future states, and then focus his will and magic through his wand to make it so. So he had been wholly unprepared to identify and use the theorems and relations, and _knew_ that he had failed the exam.

Professor McGonagall strode into the room, and Harry recognized a very familiar piece of parchment clenched in her fist.

"Mr. Longbottom, please leave. I need to speak with Mr. Potter alone. We will conduct your Practical exam after Dinner." Her voice brooked no argument and Neville left, giving Harry a sympathetic look.

As the door closed behind his stepbrother, Harry saw McGonagall take out her wand and lock the door and cast a bevy of privacy spells. She turned to Harry, with his parchment held aloft, and spoke, "Mr. Potter what is this?"

Harry bit back a sarcastic retort, and making sure his voice did not waiver, answered, "That is my written exam, Ma'am."

"What did Alastor teach you?" Mcgonagall screeched. "I have first years who could do better on this test! Your theoretical grasp of the subject is utterly atrocious. Not only do you conflate and mislabel many key concepts, but you go on to claim that you can perform advanced transfiguration with only your will and your wand. A feat which only the most skilled and experienced practitioners of the discipline can claim." Professor McGonagall finally stopped to take a breath.

"But Professor McGonagall, it's true I haven't used formulas in years. That's why I did so poorly on the exam!" Harry said, feeling more than a little irate now. He _hated_ being called a liar. "I can show you, if you let me."

"Mr. Potter, if you are wasting my time, I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your time at Hogwarts doing revisions with first years!" McGonagall said sharply. Then she levitated one of the plain student chairs out onto the top of her desk. "Please transfigure that chair into a replica of the chair behind my desk."

Harry inspected both chairs carefully. His father had always taught him to focus on the original state first. He fixed every grain of the plain frame of the student's chair and its seat with maroon upholstery in his mind's eye; He memorized the shapely contours of McGonagall's chair, what looked like the oak frame and the Hippogriff hide that lined the chair. With both images held tightly in his mind, and his wand pointed at the chair, he _willed_ the chair to transform and pushed his magic through the wand.

Two identical versions of the Professor's chair now occupied the classroom. Harry heard McGonagall's gasp. The Deputy Headmistress levitated the newly transfigured chair to the ground, and began inspecting it. She paced around it casting diagnostic spells nonverbally, and finally sat in the chair. Satisfied, she stood and addressed Harry, "Mr. Potter, I apologize for questioning your abilities, but this is quite remarkable for someone your age. Would you please untransfigure the chair?" Harry refrained from telling her that he had been studying for six years under one of the best Transfiguration Masters in the world. Instead he focused on her request.

Untransfiguration was a little more difficult, as you had to perform all the steps for a normal transfiguration, in addition to cancelling the previous spell. But he was able to concentrate enough to return the chair to its original state. McGonagall looked on, suitably impressed.

What followed was hours of Harry transfiguring, untransfiguring, conjuring, and vanishing all sorts of items and creatures.

By the end of the Practical, they had discovered Harry's limitations. He didn't have the capability to transfigure or untransfigure anything larger than an old fashioned wardrobe, nor could he adequately cope with large differences in relative mass. His limit was changing a feather into a rather shabby desk. He could only vanish something up to the complexity of a lion, but magical creatures evaded him; He could also conjure large inanimate object, and only small animate objects.

The Professor assured Harry that all of these faults, could and would be corrected with time, practice, and expert instruction.

"We have already discussed the prospect of Animagus lessons, perhaps we could add an additional hour on for advanced practice, beforehand. You will still attend normal classes to shore up your understanding of the underlying theories and concepts, it will be an important part of your OWLs." The stern witch said with something approaching a smile as they left the classroom.

That night while Neville took his Transfiguration Practical, Harry sat in his customary seat intensely studying a Potions text. Even though it was two days away he was very worried about the subject. Snape was sure to try and sabotage his exam in any way possible. While he wasn't a budding potioneer like Neville, Harry thought if he was given an accurate recipe and adequate tools that he could brew any potion out there.

When Neville came in, he headed straight up to the dormitory without a word to Harry. Harry didn't follow his stepbrother. Whatever was bothering the blonde haired boy, Harry was sure his stepbrother could work out himself. Their parents had raised them to be self-reliant, after all.

The next day's Astronomy and Magical Creatures exam went well, with both boys excelling. Professor Kettleburn only had one arm and half of one leg, but he was well versed in the subject, and was pleased with how the boys handled the Hippogriff and the Thestral that he brought into the Great Hall.

The Potions written exam was _hard_, and Harry ended up splitting himself into Harry-one and Harry-two, to have a chance of doing well. Harry-one concentrated with all of his might on answering the many and varied questions, determined to do well on the exam; Harry-two kept track of Snape's every condescending move, ready to react to the slightest provocation.

When they returned to the dungeon after lunch, they found two sets of six cauldrons, separated by an opaque shield, in various states of brewing. Around each cauldron were a variety of different ingredients.

"You have until breakfast tomorrow to brew these six potions." His nasty voice carried a tone that clearly said he thought neither boy stood a chance of hell of accomplishing the task. Harry determined to ace the exam.

Focusing on the task at hand, Harry moved to the cauldrons. He was immediately able to recognize a half completed Forgetfulness potion, and the Shrinking Solution about a third of the way through. He assigned Harry-one with the task of completing those two potions, since Harry had already easily brewed those potions. A minute later Harry-two took responsibility for a Strengthening Potion that was in its second stage. Harry-three took responsibility for a copper cauldron full of Polyjuice potion that was still in its infancy.

Harry stretched himself further than ever, and created Harry-four and Harry-five. Each Harry was given the task of identifying and completing the potions.

After a very strenuous hour Harry-one had completed perfectly colored Forgetfulness and Shrinking potions. With an audible sigh of relief Harry-one took over Harry-five's responsibility, his fifth train of thought easily merged back into his main consciousness. Greatly relieving the pressure on his mind.

Ten minutes later Harry-four had identified his potion as a Draught of Living Death, which had simmered for ten minutes too long. As Harry-four rushed to correct the potion, the sixth cauldron remained a mystery that Harry-one could not identify.

Soon Harry had produced four working potions, and he had returned to Harry-one and Harry-two. The Polyjuice Potion was simmering and would need to do so for another fourteen hours, it would be done just before breakfast. The sixth potion continued to bother Harry immensely, it bubbled in annoyingly pleasant shade of blue, and Harry had no idea what the hell it was. Snape eyed him with dark satisfaction.

Harry _knew_ the bastard had picked some incredibly complex and esoteric potion just for this reason. That didn't blunt the fact that Snape was going to beat Harry. Harry pulled himself out of his momentary sulk. Thinking what Moody had said to him after an embarrassing defeat in a duel_, "Boy, everyone loses. All we can do is learn from our mistakes, and control the effects that a loss can have."_

Harry examined the situation and met Snivellus' eyes and gave him his best mocking smile. Then he immediately cast the most powerful protections on his Polyjuice cauldron that he could. Turning to the sixth cauldron, Harry silently vanished the potion.

"Professor," Harry said checking his watch-that-was-not-a-watch. "I'll return at seven in the morning to finish the potion. And thank you for the lesson, I'm sure it will serve me well in the future." He finished with a flourish and headed out of the Potions class. He'd be damned in that Greasy git was going to ruin his DADA exam.

When he returned after a full night's rest, Neville was still working on two potions. Harry removed his protections and added a scoop of simmering lacewings to the cauldron, stirred three times anti-clockwise, and then filled a phial with the thick mud-like potion. He sat the potion with the four others, and turned to see that Neville was bottling a clear liquid. _All_ ofNeville's potions looked _perfect_. Of course, the Death Eater didn't offer any congratulations, he just took Neville's potions with a grunt of assent. The two boys gave the sneering git mocking bows and withdrew.

When they were outside the dungeon and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry asked a very tired looking Neville what the sixth potion was. The blonde haired boy responded, "Veritaserum. Took me all night to prepare, it's by far the most difficult potion I've ever successfully brewed." Harry was _impressed_.

"I've heard that even professional potioneers have a hard time with that potion, congrats mate. One more step closer to mastery!" Harry knew that Neville planned to gain a dual mastery in Herbology and Potions. The blonde haired boy's shoulders straightened and a tired smile crossed his face. Then he pulled a Pepperup Potion out of his bag and downed it. The effect was instantaneous, his steps became more brisk and his tired eyes regained some of their usual spark.

"After, the Sorting tonight, I'm going to sleep for an age!" Neville said sounding much less tired.

When the pair entered the Great Hall they noticed that the table was full, every staff member was present, even Snape. The bastard must have known a secret passage. Harry also noticed the newly commissioned Auror Nymphadora Tonk sitting near the end of the table, her hair was a midnight blue.

"Nymphadora, what are you doing here?" Harry asked in an innocent tone. She was Padfoot's cousin, and Sirius had mercilessly teased the witch by using her full name. Harry had quite liked the young witch on the odd occasions when they met, so he decided to keep the tradition alive.

"It's Professor Tonks, Mr. Potter, and I've been designated as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Her voice held no small amount of pride. The DADA position had been taught by some of the greatest fighting wizards in history, starting with Godric Gryffindor himself. The standards and prestige of the position had dropped to an all-time low when Voldemort had placed an extremely powerful and pervasive curse on the position. The curse would allow no one to serve for longer than a school year.

In response, Harry's father had championed the Auror Defense Against the Dark Arts Act. The Act magically bound a selected Auror to serve as the DADA teacher at Hogwarts for no more and no less than a full school year. Thus the students could count on a competent education in Defense. Mostly cub Aurors were assigned to the position, to give them a little more training before they actually took to the field.

A little known clause of the ADADA act, was that ghosts were prohibited from holding teaching positions, thus the old ghostly professor had been exorcised.

"That's brilliant, Professor!" Neville said.

"Congrats, Professor Tonks!" Harry said sincerely. He'd have to put off the teasing for a year. But at least he knew that he'd like this year's DADA teacher.

The boys sat down and began to eat, Harry noticed that Neville was eating ravenously, his stepbrother hadn't even cast detection charms on the food prior to starting. Normally Harry would have ensured that his stepbrother paid for his lackadaisical approach to security, in hilarious fashion, but he was far too excited about the upcoming exams. Combat Magic, as Gryffindor had named it at the classes' inception, was Harry's preferred field.

Harry annihilated the written exam. Positing the creative uses of Transfiguration or Charms in combat situations. Dueling techniques, including spell chains and obscure spells. Both tactics for small teams and strategy for larger conflicts. Methods of defending against Dark Creatures. Dark Wizards and their tactics. Signs of Dark Magic, and any known counters. Cursed objects.

"Damn Harry this reads like an Auror manual!" Nymphadora sounded genuinely impressed, as she examined the five sheets of parchment he had filled up, front and back. Harry felt himself blush. Auror was one of the career paths that he had been considering. The others were International Man of Mystery with a License to Kill, Quidditch Superstar, Champion Duelist, or Enlightened Monarch of a Reformed Britain. Harry hadn't decided which.

"Thanks Professor!" Calling Tonks "Professor" felt weird.

After Lunch, they stayed in the Great Hall. So did the rest of the faculty.

"The best practical exam I can think of is a duel. Mr. Longbottom we shall go first. Headmaster Dumbledore has graciously offered to perform the Blunting Charm on our wands, so there will be no need to hold back." Moody had often used the Blunting charm on their wands. The spell was enormously complicated and very impractical for any application other than practice. The two combatants would allow a third wizard to perform the spell, which would effectively bind their spells from causing serious damage or lasting harm. The spell could be broken at any time by either combatant, but the first wand to do so made a loud screeching sound accompanied by bright yellow sparks.

"The conditions for the end of the duel will be disarming or incapacitation. Professor Flitwick will provide a Dueling Dome." A Dueling Dome was a powerful shield that produced a stationary dome with a radius of fifteen meters. "Harry please step out to the Entrance Hall, we will call you when it is your turn." Feeling let down, he had _really_ wanted to watch the duel, he stepped outside. The door sealed itself with a squelch behind him.

Harry thought about his upcoming duel. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall had offered Harry advanced training because of his outstanding performance in the Practical exams. While Harry was very excited, what he really wanted was advanced combat training. That would mean performing well against Tonks. She was an Auror like Mad-Eye, and Moody had always thrashed Harry in their duels.

Moody had always said that the best weapon is the one your opponent doesn't know about, but Harry felt that he would have to reveal his true strength to earn extra training. So with a determined grin, he adjusted his watch-that-wasn't-a-watch to read zero in the outer band. Harry pondered the watch as the duel took place.

The "watches" were another ingenious innovation from Marauder's INC. They had been patterned after the rare and powerful manacles used to detain the most powerful wizards, before they were sent to Azkaban. By draining the magic out of a user, the manacles effectively made the dangerous criminals as helpless as a muggle. The use of the manacles was highly restricted because they absorbed all nearby magic.

It had been noticed that young wizards who wore the manacles for long periods of time, had noticeably stronger magic once they were removed. This was believed to prove the concept that magical strength in humans was similar to muscular strength, that by straining the magical 'muscle' of a witch or wizard you would in fact make them stronger. And like teenage muscles, a young wizard's magic was more apt to rapid growth. Of course, if physical muscles had absolute potential for maximum growth that varied between individuals, the same could be said for witches and wizards, each and every magic-user had a different inherent ceiling to their raw magical power.

So the Experimental Magical Artifact Division of Marauder's Inc., had set to work trying to make a more controlled version of the manacles, and the brothers had received the prototypes. The prototypes were functioning watches that had an adjustable dial surrounding the face of the watch, the dial could be manipulated from zero to one hundred. Zero setting meant that none of their magical energy was absorbed and one hundred, that all of their magic was absorbed. For most purposes they kept the dials at thirty, just enough to present a constant drain on their magical power, but not enough to cripple them if an unexpected emergency occurred.

After what felt like hours, but in reality was only five minutes, Harry was recalled to the Great Hall. Feeling _powerful_, Harry marched in and saw Neville being revived with a "Reenervate!" Tonks looked fresh.

Harry quickly offered his wand to the Headmaster. The Headmaster made the Blunting Charm look effortless, and then Tonks and Harry took up opposing positions. Flitwick nonverbally cast the Dueling Dome spell, and a translucent dome sprang up around the combatants.

"Three!" Harry opened his Awareness to the magic around him. Focusing all of his power on the here and now.

"Two!" Harry strengthened his Occlumency barriers, showing a false image of him using Salazar's Salvo spell chain to open the duel.

"One!" Harry reached out with his Legilimency upon making eye contact, he found rudimentary barriers and stealthily slid past them. He saw that Tonks was nervous to be facing off against The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was cognizant that Tonks' rudimentary shields might very well be a ploy, a skilled Occlumens could easily do the same.

"Go!" Harry saw and sensed the standard nonverbal Disarming Drill chain issuing from Tonks' wand. He nonverbally cast _Protego,_ and red and scarlet light splashed violently against the shield, Harry let the shield drop and calmly stepped to the side, his years of martial training making his footwork fluid and precise.

The yellow light of the Drill Buster curse, a spell specifically designed to break through shields, passed through the space he had just stood. With a twist of his wand and his will, he cancelled the Summoning Charm that tried to steal his wand from his hand.

Harry was used to dealing with the supernatural speed of a werewolf, the finely honed reactions of the battle hardened Medjai, or the unrelenting ferocity of Mad-eye. Tonks was _slow._ Much closer to those Egyptian terrorists than his other dueling partners. She also made no proper effort to mask her magic or her mind, which telegraphed her entire dueling technique. Her spells were fairly strong, but Mad-Eye had always that _slow_ and _predictable_ meant death on the battlefield.

Harry immediately unleashed the Flame and Force spell chain, he wanted the Auror to take him seriously!

_Incendio!_ Harry conjured a sheet of fire and flung it at the Auror, where it was intercepted by a Shield charm.

_Forzare!_ An invisible force shattered the blue-white shield and forced the Auror back.

_Assantius! _A large concussive force aimed at Tonks feet shattered the stone floor around her, and the recoil of the spell threw Harry out of the path of Tonks' hasty stunner.

_Fuego! _A fireball the size of a mini smashed into the area where Tonks was.

Harry felt Tonks cast the Flame Freezing Charm, an instant before the flames enveloped her. When the flames died away her eyes were hard and her hair had turned a brilliant red. She was finally ready for a real duel.

As fast as thought the Explosive chain issued from her wand. "Protego Maximus!" The shield was the most powerful he could cast, and he felt the drain on his magic, instantly. The Blasting Curse and the Bombardment Curse shattered against his shield, causing a large cloud of dust to fill the air. He instantly dismissed the spell and silently Disillusioned himself. Rolling to the left, he found an area of ground that was still undamaged.

He drew his power to himself quickly, emptying much of his reserves, wand trained on Tonks last known position.

Tonks vanished the dust and Harry pounced with a modified Elemental Fury spell chain.

_Lumos Conus!_ A cone of blinding bright light engulfed the Auror.

_Induratum A'ris!_ Harry _willed_ the air into a massive hammer that shattered Tonks' hastily constructed shield, causing her to stagger under the force of the blow.

_Aquilevatus!_ A curtain of water flung over the Professor and the immediate area.

_Fulminos!_ Lightning flashed from his wand and coruscated into the surrounding puddles and the drenched Auror, eliciting screams of pain and causing her to tense up, interrupting her spell.

_Arctis Maxima!_ A large blast of ice covered the wet area, instantly freezing it and the Auror solid.

_Accio Wands!_ Both Tonks' regular wand and back up wand shattered the surrounding ice and flew into his waiting hand. Harry dimly noted how the wands were still room temperature, it would take powerful magic to damage a wand. That had been the modification, usually the spell chain lowed into Blossoms of Fire.

An instant later, the Dueling Dome was lifted and Professor Flitwick was thawing out their Defense Professor. There was silence from the rest of the watchers, disbelieving and calculating gazes roved over him. Harry stood straight backed and proud, feeling drained.

Dumbledore began to clap, and then everybody, save Snape, joined in.

"Well done, Mr. Potter! The Great Hall hasn't seen such a spectacular duel in years." Dumbledore said, as he wandlessly dissipated the Blunting Charm.

Harry ruthlessly crushed the feeling of euphoria that tried to swell up in him. Tonks was a cub Auror who had no real battlefield experience, Harry reminded himself. He would _never_ get such a lopsided result against his normal dueling partners. Not to mention against wizards like his father and godfather, those two would have dismantled Harry quickly. The young wizard forced himself to think of what his paltry skills would earn him against foes like Voldemort or Dumbledore, the only answer was a swift death.

"Yeah, Har… er …Mr. Potter great duel." The now unfrozen Tonks said sincerely. The witch didn't seem to be a poor loser, which Harry was grateful for. The last thing Harry needed was for another professor to take up a grudge him! "Don't know what I'll be able to teach you, I'm sure we'll find something, though."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry said, handing the Auror back both her wands. As he spoke the Great Hall began to heal itself.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, I would like to have a private word with you." Professor McGonagall said

The boys followed McGonagall to a chamber off the Great Hall, past the High Table. It had a large fireplace opposite the door and portraits of wizards and witches lined the walls. One of the wizards had a great walrus moustache as he looked in interest at the gathering.

"I'd like to congratulate both of you boys on doing very well on all of your exams. You satisfactorily completed every last one. Mr. Longbottom you have been offered advanced study with Professors Babbling, Flitwick, Niall, Snape, and Sprout for your stellar performance during your evaluations. Mr. Potter you will be extended the same offer from Professors Flitwick, Tonks, and myself." The stern witch seemed on the edge of a true smile.

"Of course this in addition to the normal coursework and our Animagus sessions. It looks like it will be a very busy year for the both of you!" She finished sharply.

Harry beamed at Neville. His stepbrother would be taking advanced lessons, in one form or another, from _six_ instructors this year. The studious boy seemed absolutely giddy at the prospect. Harry wished him luck, especially with Snape. Harry would be content with the three sessions that he had obtained.

As they walked out of the chamber to rest before the other students arrived, Harry thought of what his teachers could teach him, and what he was going to pursue privately.

**A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.**


	7. Mudbloods, HalfBloods, and BloodTraitors

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: I will be releasing chapters on Fridays starting next week, due to my workload increasing! I don't have a beta, if anyone wants to help out, it'd be much appreciated! Hope you guys enjoy the new chapter**

**Chapter 6**

**Mudbloods, Half Bloods, and Blood Traitors**

Hogwarts loomed ahead. Countless candles gleamed in the distant windows and its huge outline vanished into the star studded sky. Every time Draco saw the castle like this, he felt awe envelope him. The castle was raised by Salazar Slytherin and the other Founders almost a thousand years ago. It was truly one of the thirteen wonders of their world. His father always said it was a prime example of the might of wizarding kind. The blonde haired boy couldn't help but agree.

Too bad it was run by the biggest bunch of blood traitors in Britain. Dumbledore was a mighty wizard, but more than slightly mad, and much too sympathetic to the lesser sort. The Deputy Head Headmistress was extremely strict, and did not show the proper respect for someone of his pedigree. The only worthy one out of the entire lot was Professor Snape, and even he was only a Half Blood.

With an audible sigh, Draco turned away from the sight to focus on ongoing conversation in the carriage.

"Theodore, you can't be serious! Of course, we'll win the House Cup again!" Pansy Parkinson's high pitched voice sounded shocked.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Harry Potter's been sorted into Gryffindor. All the staff, except Professor Snape, are sure to kiss his scarred arse." Theodore Nott didn't sound happy about the prospect.

Draco's father, an esteemed member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, had told him about the special treatment that Potter was already receiving. The blood traitor had already been at Hogwarts for a week with his sidekick, Neville Longbottom, and they were going to be receiving advanced training throughout the year. The excuse for this blatant favoritism was that the pair had, through a battery of exams, shown skills well beyond fourth year level.

Not bloody likely.

Draco and his father suspected that James Potter, the chief enemy of the Pureblood Movement, had thrown an obscene amount of money at the staff to garner preferential treatment.

The Potter's had gone from a modestly wealthy family, to a family that had wealth on par with, if not surpassing, that of the Malfoy's in less than a generation. Some idiots thought that the Potter's had a philosopher's stone. Others said that their plebian venture, Marauder's Inc., was responsible fortheir windfall. Personally, Draco thought they had cashed in on the fall of the Dark lord in some unknown way

So Draco had shared this nugget of information, once they were comfortably aboard the Hogwarts express. Unfortunately, all the conversation of the day had surrounded the celebrity's arrival at Hogwarts, and the many possible effects it would have on the power structure of the castle. Draco shouldn't have been surprised, they _were_ Slytherins.

After a full day of discussion, a consensus hadn't been reached within Slytherin. The Malfoy scion regretted telling his friends. He was well and truly tired of hearing about Harry bloody Potter, but try as he might he couldn't seem to steer the conversation in any other direction.

"Professor Snape won't let that happen." Pansy said petulantly. The Slytherin Head of House was infamous for how much he favored his house, and he had done everything in his power to see that Slytherin _always_ won the House Cup. "Plus we always win the Quidditch Cup!"

Draco grinned. The Nimbus 2001s that his father had bought the team, added to his own transcendent skills as a Seeker practically assured that Slytherin would always be victorious on the Pitch.

"Yeah, we always pound those Gryffs into the ground!" Vincent Crabbe's lumbering voice said from across the carriage. Crabbe alongside Gregory Goyle were sure to take over as Beaters next year when Derrick and Bole left. Greg was in another carriage, since Pansy had insisted on accompanying Draco as always. She and Theo had been in the middle of their argument, so that left Goyle the odd man out.

"What do you think, Draco?" Pansy simpered.

"I think I'm bloody tired of talking about the blood traitor!" Draco snapped peevishly.

The carriage fell into an uneasy silence at his words, the silence stretched until the carriage pulled to a stop in front of the castle.

Draco briskly pushed the carriage door open and hopped out. He strode quickly towards the castle. He didn't see what the big deal was about the famed wizard. Father always said that it had been ancient blood magic invoked by his mudblood mother that had destroyed the Dark Lord, Potter hadn't done _anything_.

Reaching the steps to the Entrance Hall he took them two at a time, leaving his friends to scurry after him. Draco didn't care, if they were too stupid to see how over-hyped his nemesis was, they deserved to scurry about like idiots.

The night sky roiled overhead as he took his customary seat at the Slytherin table. A moment later a red faced Pansy Parkinson slid into her seat on his left, and Theo sat down on his right. Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him. No one said a word as the other students filed in.

Draco began scanning the room for any sign of Potter or Longbottom.

At the Gryffindor table he saw four of the destitute Weasels bunched together.

The sixth year twins were skilled Beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and constant annoyances as they perpetrated prank after prank on the members of Slytherin. But at least they had some semblance of cunning.

Ron Weasley was a thorn in Draco's side, his crass and bullish manner was always an impediment to Draco's plans. They had been at each other's throats since first year. The Gryffindor lacked the wit or the means to truly challenge Draco's dominance of the year, though.

The youngest Weasley was turning into a fit bird, pureblooded and sleek. Draco definitely wanted a ride. Maybe he could pay for her services. Her blood traitor family could definitely use the money.

He continued to scan the table and saw the other Fourth year Gryffindor boys: Michael Corner, Seamus Finnigan, Anthony Goldstein, and Dean Thomas. The lot of 'em were half-blooded, and besides being in Gryffindor, were entirely inconsequential. He finished his inspection of Gryffindor table without seeing either Longbottom or Potter.

The Griffindor Fourth year girls: The Patil twins, Lavender Brown, Leta DaGrun, and Lily Moon. Besides Brown's _mature_ figure, they were all worthless.

His eyes drifted to the Ravenclaw table, and to the witch who by all rights should have been sitting next to him. Karina Black was happily chatting with her two friends: her pet mudblood Granger and the other blood traitor, Susan Bones. Black's olive skin made her sharp gray eyes stand out from her beautiful features as she looked at her fellow Ravenclaws. Even at this distance and despite her robes, Draco could tell that the pureblooded witch had grown in most alluring ways.

Draco lusted after her, even as he hated her.

Granger was first in their class. Karina was second. Draco was third. The witches had routinely outperformed him in every class. His father had angrily said it was shameful to come in second in anyway, but it was absolutely unacceptable to fall behind a blood traitor. Even worse he allowed a bushy haired mudblood to surpass him.

Still he _wanted_ Karina, more than anything in the world. Rape, love potions, or the Imperius wouldn't be enough, he wanted her to be _his_ completely. One day he swore that she'd marry him, of her own free will, and give him a strong son to carry on the Malfoy name. As it was, she wouldn't give him the time of day.

Draco ignored the puerile Sorting Hat song. The dingy hat must have led an extremely boring existence and it was a poor singer to boot.

He quickly scanned the new first years and recognized two faces from Flourish and Blotts. Potter's younger siblings, the boy had blonde hair, but otherwise looked like Potter and his father. The girl was a copy of her mother, except she had brown eyes. They were fraternal twins, and in the old days one of them would have been killed at birth. There were old stories about the evil of such offspring.

"Potter, Gideon" was sorted into Ravenclaw and "Potter, Rose" was quickly sorted into Gryffindor.

He didn't pay attention to any of the other firsties, none of them were from families of note. Though he did politely applaud for the new Slytherins, it was customary.

After all of the first years had been sorted, Dumbledore stood up and addressed the student body.

"Before we tuck in, please join me in welcoming our new Fourth Year Gryffindors: Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter." A door opened next to the staff table as Professor Dumbledore started to politely clap. His applause echoed in the suddenly quiet hall.

Out stepped Neville Longbottom, a muscled and tall young man who carried himself well. Malfoy looked him over. The wizard's robes were of the finest cut and he wore them well, over his shoulder he carried a mokeskin rucksack. His posture was erect and proper. His quick pace and nervously active hands gave away his disquiet. His footsteps joined the Headmaster's applause as the only sounds in the hall.

After a count of five, the-Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived walked out. His black robes were of similarly fine quality, but Potter somehow made them look inconsequential. Draco registered that Longbottom was taller by at least two inches, but Potter seemed to tower over the other boy. Raven hair fashionably messy, green eyes alight, mouth turned into an appreciative smile, Potter _sauntered_ out. He looked completely at ease, no sign of hesitation or nervousness.

At the sight of their beloved hero the hall erupted. Draco had only experienced such a cacophony this summer at the World Cup, and even then it had been spread out over an open Quidditch pitch, not confined to a room.

Gryffindor was going absolutely mental, he could hear the magically amplified voice of one the Weasley Twins screaming, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Ron Weasley looked like Christmas had come early, as he shouted himself hoarse. Ginny Weasley looked like she was going to feint.

Hufflepuff was loudly cheering, and the usually reserved Ravenclaws had abandoned all decorum and were matching the Hufflepuffs for boisterousness. Draco saw a _look_ pass between Karina and Potter, and his already black mood deteriorated even further. Even some of his fellow Slytherins had started to clap, before their housemates had been able to stop them. Draco marked which Slytherins were foolish enough to cheer for his avowed enemy.

Through it all Potter's smile grew and his steps remained calm. He bowed his head a fraction, as if he was a king come back to claim his castle. He seemed to accept the maddening reception as his due.

Draco carefully kept a neutral expression, but inside he was filled with black rage. The praise and adulation that Potter took as his due, should have been _his_. Draco should have been the one sharing meaningful glances with Karina! He resolved to ruin Potter if it was the last thing he did.

Suddenly Potter met his eyes, and Draco felt a powerful force invade his mind. Belatedly he threw up his Occlumency barriers, but Potter's smile turned into a triumphant smirk. The rotten bastard had used Legilimency on him, what was worse the blood traitor had undoubtedly been successful.

Draco averted his eyes and found Professor Snape sitting at the Head table, an unquestionably murderous look across his face. At least, there was one other sane person in Hogwarts.

Finally Potter and Longbottom sat down next to the Weasels, and the cheering died down.

"Well tuck in." Dumbledore said without preamble, his damnable eyes were twinkling merrily.

A sumptuous feast appeared on the golden plates. Roast beef, roast chicken, boiled potatoes, chips, yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, and peppermint humbugs were set before them. Mechanically he filled his plate and began eating. Even the delicious food could not deter his mind from the schemes of revenge that flashed pat his mind's eye.

Midway through the meal, as Pansy was trying to engage him in conversation, he noticed Potter and Longbottom get up and walk over to where the Ravenclaws table. After a few words from Potter, the pair sat down on opposite sides of Karina and began to merrily talk. Draco was surprised the goblet in his hand didn't buckle under his grip.

Draco didn't even touch dessert, which was his favorite part of every meal, so intent was he on observing his nemesis.

At the end of dinner, the pair moved back to the Gryffindor table. Karina looked after them, much too long for Draco's taste.

The food disappeared and Dumbledore stood. The old codger began talking. Draco only listened half-heartedly.

"Please give a warm Hogwarts welcome to this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Nymphadora Tonks!" A pretty witch with midnight blue hair stood up and gave a cheerful wave. There was a wave of polite applause from the crowd, except Potter and Longbottom were applauding raucously.

Draco thought he was going to be sick. Nymphadora Tonks[MO1] was the daughter of his blood traitor Aunt Andromeda and her mudblood husband. Draco had never met his disinherited Aunt or cousin, his father and mother would never let him mix with such rabble. As far as Draco was concerned, his cousin was a stain on the family honor.

She sat down and the doddering old fool continued speaking.

Draco was too engrossed in his own whirring thoughts to pay attention to the Headmaster's remarks about the caretaker's absurd rules, the squib was a nasty piece of work who didn't know his place.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." That brought Draco out of his thoughts, he _loved _Quidditch. The rest of the school apparently agreed with him, as angry shouts filled the air.

Dumbledore held his hands up and an uncomfortable silence fell over the hall.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the staffs' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely." The old wizard paused for effect.

"I have great pleasure in announcing that this year the Septem-Wizard Series will be taking place at Hogwarts." Curious muttering filled the air. Apparently he wasn't the only one who had never heard of this bollocks.

"The Septem-Wizard-Series is the natural successor to the famed Tri-Wizard Tournament. It will call upon six other schools of magic from around the world: Amun-Ra Mystical Academy, Beauxbatons Academy, Durmstrang Instute, Eldorado School of Magic, Izanagi Academy, and Salem Witches Instute. A champion will be selected to represent each school, and the seven champions will compete in seven magical tasks." The student body seemed mollified, now.

"The Series is meant to bring the Wizarding world closer, by providing an environment for young witches and wizards to interact. Our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for the Series to take place." Draco's father associated with Cornelius Fudge, the Department Head of International Magical Cooperation, and wondered why he had not been made privy to this event.

"The Heads of the seven schools will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the seven champions will take place on Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most qualified to compete for the Series Cup, the glory of their school, and seven thousand Galleons in personal prize money." Draco quite liked the sound of that! His father wouldn't care if he wasn't top of the class, if he won the Series.

"Eager though I know you all will be to bring the Septem-Wizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put their names forward for consideration. This-" Draco joined in the general outcry coming from the younger years, _he_ wanted to compete!

Dumbledore paused until the student body simmered down.

"is a measure that we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." The Headmaster was looking at Gryffindor table, in the vicinity of Potter. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen." There was a general grumbling from the student body.

"The delegations from the schools will be arriving in October, and remaining with us for a greater part of this year. I know that you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to enjoy your three day weekend. Bedtime! Chop chop!" The old wizard smiled benignly. The students and staff got up to leave.

"So, Draco are you going to try to enter?" Pansy said sweetly, as she grabbed his elbow. The pair began to walk toward the Slytherin dungeons, surrounded by their housemates. "I think you'd be sure to win!"

Draco knew she was just trying to get back in his good graces by talking about a non-Potter related subject. That didn't mean it wasn't working.

"Yes, I imagine so." Draco said as he favored the witch with one of his most dazzling smiles. "We can't have any of the lesser sort representing Hogwarts. Can we?"

"Don't be droll, I don't imagine any of _that sort_ would be judged worthy to participate in such a high profile event." Pansy's voice was light and playful. "Still, better safe than sorry!"

The Slytherins continued to talk loudly and boisterously about entering the tournament, as they approached their common room entrance.

"Pride" one of the Slytherin prefects said as Draco and his friends neared the stone wall. The wall vanished to reveal a tunnel. Once they reached the common room, Draco glanced about. The room was exactly as he remembered it.

The common room was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. This dungeon extended partway under the lake, casting a green tinge over the room. There were quite a few low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. It provided a suitablt grand and forbidding atmosphere. Tapestries featuring the adventures of various famous Medieval Slytherins decorated the walls.

Feeling a bit worn out, Draco excused himself to his private room. Private rooms were allotted to those of the best quality within Slytherin. His room was appointed in green and silver, had its own fireplace, and an adjoining bathroom. He had hear that the other Houses made no special distinction between students, that they all shared a dormitory. The idea of sharing a room with anyone was appalling to the young wizard.

He took out a quill and a parchment and composed a note to father. After a few minutes of writing Draco looked over his neat and precise handwriting one last time.

_Father,_

_You were correct, Potter and Longbottom were already at Hogwarts when we arrived. They were given a suitably dramatic entrance by Dumbledore. Obviously he intends to show the pair favoritism. They seemed very comfortable with the Black and Bones girls. Perhaps I should endeavor to cause a rift between them?_

_Quidditch was cancelled for the year. A new tournament has been announced. I am thinking of entering. The event sounds like an excellent way to increase the prestige of the family name._

_My blood traitor cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, has been appointed as the DADA teacher. I think it's criminal that they continue to populate the staff with such ruffians. Maybe next year they will appoint that oaf Hagrid as a teacher!_

_As always, give my love to mother._

_Your obedient son,_

_Draco_

Satisfied with the contents of the letter he placed it in the Vanishing box inside his trunk. His vanishing box's counterpart was in his parent's bedroom. When he closed the lid, his note would vanish, and then reappear inside its twin. Comm-mirrors didn't work at Hogwarts and owls were far too slow. Both were notoriously unsecure, so he used the Vanishing box to communicate with his parents.

He quickly undressed and laid down on his very comfortable bed. Practicing his Occlumency he pushed the thoughts of the day away.

Soon he fell into a deep sleep where he fitfully dreamed of entering the Septem-Wizard Series, only for Harry Potter to steal the Trophy out from under his nose. The Trophy then shifted into Karina Black, and the two blood traitors began laughing at him. Their laughter became his father's mocking laughter. Who then began to berate him for being an embarrassing failure.

Upon waking he did not remember the dream, only a sharp feeling of shame and outrage.

He immediately opened up his trunk and tapped the Vanishing box with his wand. The lid opened and he saw a parchment tightly rolled up and bound with a silver ribbon. His father's seal was affixed to the ribbon.

He quickly broke the seal and began reading.

_Draco,_

_Keep me apprised of Potter's movements, he is a potential lever that we can use against his father. Be wary, all reports I have point to a large amount of martial training. _

_The Septem-Wizard Series is a move by Lord Potter to gain influence both at home and abroad. If it is successful, he will have garnered much support from the commons. Do not attempt to enter the Series, I have laid careful plans to see that the Series and the Potter's do not succeed._

_The Standards at Hogwarts are of my utmost concerns, be assured that I am doing everything in my power to correct the deficiency._

_A dangerous game is afoot. Keep your head down, and concentrate on your studies._

_Love,_

_Father_

After committing the letter to memory, he threw the parchment into his fireplace, and waited a few seconds to make sure that the letter was completely burned. Draco vanished the ashes for good measure.

The fact that his father included Draco in his schemes, made a proud fire burn in his chest.

Draco mulled over his father's words, as he quickly bathed and dressed himself. He was disappointed that he would not be joining the Series, but the thought of the Potter's being humbled made him smile.

Before leaving his room, he verified that he was impeccably dressed, every strand of his platinum blonde hair was perfectly placed. His father always said that the proper appearance was the first step to success.

He met Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott in the Common Room. Pansy was apparently still doing her makeup. Unwilling to wait for her, the quartet made their way down to the Great Hall. The four boys fell into an easy rhythm. Vincent and Gregory weren't the greatest conversationalists, but they were his oldest friends. Besides, their imposing stature and tendency to cast hexes at the slightest provocation, made the other occupants of the castle scurry out of the way. Draco and Theodore engaged in small talk, trying to decide how they were going to spend their long weekend.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Neither Potter nor Longbottom were present at their table.

As was his habit, his eyes drifted to where Karina usually sat. That area of the Ravenclaw table was roaring with laughter at some unknown joke. He caught sight of Black. She looked even more beautiful when she laughed. Her usually guarded countenance, open and jovial, dark locks moved enticingly.

Then he saw the source of their amusement. Potter was telling a joke that had the normally reserved Ravenclaws laughing uncontrollably. It was subtle, but the body language at the table showed the Gryffindor was the center of attention. When Karina lightly brushed her hand against Potter's arm, Draco decided to take action.

Flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, Draco and Nott strode the length of the table towards the group. Conversations died as he moved, _some_ of the fools knew enough to show him the proper amount of respect.

"Eh, Potter you must be confused, this is the Ravenclaw table. Gryffindors sit over there." He said to Potter's back, as he gestured with his thumb at the Gryffindor table. Draco noticed that Longbottom was sitting across from Potter, and the blonde wizard's hands were conspicuously free.

"What business is it of yours where I sit?" Potter's voice was dismissive, he hadn't even turned to face Draco.

"Oh not much, I just thought I'd give you a little advice, since you've been out on a lark for the last thirteen years." Draco let his voice carry. He wanted to remind the students that Potter had thought himself too good to attend Hogwarts, until recently. "We here at Hogwarts value house pride, sitting at another table pisses all over both your own house and Ravenclaw."

"Listen closely Malfoy, I'll speak slowly so that I don't have to repeat myself." Potter finally stood up and had faced Draco. "I sit where I want and with whom I want. If these fine scholars wish for me to sit elsewhere? I will gladly do so." He had gestured at the Ravenclaw table as he spoke.

"Of course, the great Harry Potter thinks that he can up end nearly a thousand years of tradition, just because he doesn't like where he was sorted." Tradition was one of the cornerstones of the Wizarding world, and Hogwarts relished the independent traditions of their houses. Perhaps Draco could succeed in turning Ravenclaw _and_ Gryffindor on Potter because of the boy's arrogance.

"Bugger off Malfoy. You're just upset because my daddy doesn't have to pay people to be my friends." Potter's sardonic tone _grated_.

Malfoy glanced about at the Ravenclaw table. Potter's little brother, Longbottom, Karina, Bones, and Granger were just a few of the people who were paying close attention to the exchange.

"Friends? If you call blood traitors and mudbloods, friends then I truly pity you." Draco's voice had just the right inflection of derision.

"I'd take any one of them over you or your goons. In a heartbeat. At the very least, they aren't spoiled gits, who take the accomplishments of their ancestors as their own." Draco felt himself flush. "Why anyone would want to lay claim to a history of political opportunism, nepotism, and dark magic, is beyond me."

"What are you doing over here anyway? Trawling for another mudblood to die for you?" Draco's voice was acid, _no one_ talked about his family. There was a general intake of breathe as he spoke, and Potter's cool facade changed like quicksilver. The half-blood was now clearly livid. That was good, angry people made mistakes. "I'd thought there'd be plenty of those over at the Gryffindor table."

"That is the third time a member of your family has insulted my mother, in my presence. There will not be a fourth." Potter's voice was dangerous. Draco ignored the shiver that ran down his spine.

"Potter, we can settle this with a wizard's duel, if you would like." Draco's said forcing himself to calmness. Father said that Potter had received martial training. More than likely he'd be confident enough to accept, then Draco would use that overconfidence to set him up after curfew.

"He accepts in the name of House Potter. I shall be his second as a representative of House Longbottom, and since you issued the duel we choose the time and place. "Longbottom's voice was fierce. "Today is a free day, so I think that noon, by the Whomping Willow will be an advantageous time."

Curse that bastard! He had effectively drawn house honor into the fray, and set the conditions to protect Potter from any underhanded tactics. Now Draco had little choice, but to participate.

"Theodore Nott of House Nott will be my second." Nott was an excellent duelist, who had a penchant for the nastier curses. "I assume underage rules of conduct will apply." The underage rules stated that the duelists agreed on a prearranged signal to start the duel, the use of Blunting Charms, and that the duel would continue until either participant was disarmed or incapacitated. Unlike a duel between adult wizards, which were often to the death, the loser would also make a concession, called a Loser's Debt.

Potter nodded.

"Then I insist that as the Loser's Debt, Potter publically admit that purebloods are superior to mudbloods and half-bloods." Draco said. If Potter agreed, he'd be putting his father's agenda in jeopardy. If Potter declined, then Draco would be able to withdraw, while making the blood traitor look like a coward.

"Agreed, on the condition that you never refer to muggleborns as mudbloods again, and that you do everything in your power to ensure that the members of your family do the same, as your Loser's Debt. I'd also like to approach Professor Flitwick as arbiter of the duel." Potter replied.

Draco weighed the situation.

He could publically shame his family's most hated rival with a victory in the duel, and all he would risk is not being able to address scum by the diminutive. Besides, Potter wasn't the only one who had received martial training, Draco had been trained in dueling well before he reached Hogwarts. Draco couldn't very well argue with the inclusion of Flitwick, he had been a well-known dueling champion in his day.

"You've got a duel Potter." The Malfoy scion said putting on an arrogant smirk as he led his friends over to the Slytherin table. Whispers followed his steps, and that heartened him. People should be talking about _him_.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur of conversation as his fellow Slytherins talked about the upcoming duel. _Everybody_ wished him luck from Seventh years on down. Draco knew that this was his moment. Once he brought Potter low, his standing in the school would skyrocket. Who needed the Septem-Wizard Series, if he could show that he was better than Potter?

Even Professor Snape came over to the table.

"Mr. Malfoy, come with me." The professor said in a neutral tone. Professor Snape pulled him away from the table in the Great Hall. Expecting a congratulatory word, Draco was surprised when he saw cold fury on the Potion Master's face. The older wizard pulled him into an alcove off of the Entrance Hall and cast a privacy charm.

"I thought you better than a common Gryffindor." His Head of House's voice was filled with contempt. Draco flinched at the words. Being called a Gryffindor by a fellow Slytherin was a great insult, not to be used lightly. "Rushing into a duel without knowing your opponent's capabilities, I thought your father did not raise a fool."

"Professor, surely you don't believe Potter's propaganda. Even if he is skilled, I'm confident my extra lessons will allow me to prevail." Draco said trying to keep his voice neutral. The Professor among others had given him lessons in the Dark Arts, and tested him in battle.

"Yesterday, Mr. Potter defeated the new Defense teacher in front of the entire faculty inside of a _Duelist Dome_. While she is an unspectacular combatant, she was by no means incompetent." Snape's voice hammered into Draco. "Potter dismantled her at his leisure. You have vast potential, and have learned a great deal more than most of your peers. On the other hand, Potter has been trained to be a weapon aimed at the Dark Lord."

Draco felt the blood draining out of his face. His father said that Snape was one of the best duelists in the world, and that he trusted the wizard's judgment implicitly.

"Good, I see my words have made an impression. Normally, I'd advise you to find some sort of pretext to withdraw, but since they have invoked family honor, we both know that to be impossible." Draco silently agreed with Snape's words, backing out of the duel was not acceptable. It would make House Malfoy appear weak, and to an ambitious Slytherin that was anathema. "Neither can a staff member intercede. Not only were the correct forms observed, but they neatly placed the duel outside of the castle's halls, thus they conformed to the letter of the rules." Snape's every word seemed to press on him, their gravity pulling at him.

"I would suggest you make plans to avoid embarrassment. It would not do for the Potters to gain a clear victory over your family and our house in one fell swoop." Snape advised. "Perhaps, you will seek my counsel before you take such a hasty course of action in the future."

Snape cancelled the privacy charm and glided out of the alcove, leaving Draco shaken.

Panic started to consume Draco, and he tried to quell it with his Occlumency skills. The sheer panic rose up in him like a terrible monster, defying his attempts. If he were to be embarrassed by Potter, what would his house do? What would his father say? Images of his father's disappointed face and his jeering classmates engendered shame in the young wizard.

Once again he tried to push down the panic and shame that seemed to rush over him. This time he succeeded.

He ran thru the conversation twice more in his head, and a plan began to form in his head.

He thought hard and looked about for anything that could help him out of his situation. A large number of students were leisurely traipsing about the castle, obviously intent on enjoying the three day weekend.

The sight of Bole and Derrick heading to the Dungeons made Draco smirk. The Bole's owed the Malfoy family a very great amount of money. _Time to call in part of that debt_, Draco thought. Derrick was graduating at the end of the year, the backing of a powerful patron would do much to help Derrick's prospects, and Derrick was the proud owner of an invisibility cloak.

After a short conversation with Bole and Derrick, which set a plan in motion. Draco returned to his seat in the Great Hall. His friends jovially accosted him once more, but he found he had lost all taste for boasting.

He began to talk quietly and haltingly to his friends, catching his mood they lost all traces of humor. A contingency plan fell into place.

Soon it was time for Draco and Nott to leave for the Whomping Willow, most of Slytherin accompanied them. Crabbe and Goyle marched ahead, acting like a vanguard. They arrived ten minutes early, the sun was high and there was nary a cloud in the September sky. Professor Flitwick was awaiting them, his features inscrutable. Peregrine Derrick gave him a subtle nod when Draco didn't see Bole.

Small groups from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began to arrive.

Five minutes passed, and Draco began to hope that Potter would not show. Then a huge standard with a charmed golden lion on scarlet background came into view. The lion reared and roared silently. The standard floated above a massive contingent of students, Draco thought it was all of Gryffindor.

At the center, Potter haughtily walked toward the awaiting Slytherins, his school robes billowed behind him. His entourage of mudbloods and blood traitors, nipping at his heels. When Potter was about a hundred yards away and had started to converse with Ron Weasley, a blast of yellow light shot from behind him. Draco was astounded as Potter, who shouldn't have been able to see the spell, moved with supernatural speed and agility to leap out of the way. He rolled to his feet with wand in hand and easily sidestepped another curse. A glittering light erupted from Potter's wand and the surrounding crowd began to glitter, including a wizard under an invisibility cloak.

The cloaked wizard went down in a hail of stunners and disarming charms. The cloak was removed to reveal Lucian Bole. Even at this distance, Draco could make out the pleased grin on Potter's face. The young wizard felt familiar panic rising once again. Bole was a _seventh year,_ and he had the advantage of surprise. Potter had bested him without missing a beat.

The approaching crowd stopped about twenty yards away. Potter moved forward unafraid. Slamming down his Occlumency defenses and pushing away his panic, Draco moved to meet him.

Professor Flitwick performed the Blunting Charms on Potter's wand and then on Draco's. Once done the little wizard moved outside the dueling circle. Flitwick cast the Duelist's Dome and inwardly Draco grinned.

"Draco, I thought you'd do much better than a lone assailant. If it was your father, I'm sure that he would have sent at least a full team to avoid facing me." Potter said, as Draco came to a stop about ten meters away from the half blood.

"My father is twice the wizard you'll ever be, and I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Draco said with reassurance. "Now, did we come here to talk or duel?" He tried to put as much confidence as possible in to his voice.

Both young wizards assumed dueling stances, and gave each other perfunctory nods. Draco did not fail to note, with displeasure, that Potter's movements were fluid and precise. Draco felt vaguely clumsy by comparison. As soon as the wizards were in their positions a blast of red sparks shot out of Flitwick's wand.

Draco lashed out, "Incendio! Bomarda! Confringo! Sectumsepra!" The Auror-grade spell chain shot from his wand. And he watched with rising horror as Potter _nonverbally_ blocked or countered each one of his spells, only Potter's wand arm moved and his face was split into a ferocious grin. Potter didn't make a move, obviously he was content to allow Draco make a fool of himself.

"Crucim Obicio!" The Duelist's Barrier rippled and he heard three voices outside the barrier simultaneously cast the spell. Immediately Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott were at his side, casting spells as they advanced. "Imperium Obicio!" He felt the barrier fall under his control and solidify. Luckily maintaining the spell was _far_ less taxing than conjuring it.

Professor Snape had shown him the strengths and weaknesses of the Duelist's Barrier the previous summer. Now the dome would only disengage if Draco dismissed it, or if he was rendered unconscious. Of course, the diminutive professor could dispel the Dome, but doing so could potentially cause magical feedback that would harm the surrounding students.

As his friends joined him, he expected to see panic flitter across Potter's face, instead Draco watched as his nemesis visage became an image of grim determination. Draco knew that he had already forfeited the duel, but he'd be damned if Potter didn't pay for it!

He and his friends had spent time learning group tactics over the summer and they filled the air with curses. As they spread apart to form a semicircle Draco shouted, "Terebero!" His yellow curse sped through the air alongside his friends disarming charm and stunning spells. It had been decided that Draco alone would use damaging curses, the others would use disabling curses, so that they could avoid harsh punishment.

They were now in an ideal combat position: they had distinct lines of fire and were spread out enough so that no single curse chain would take down more than one of them.

Potter smoothly dodged to the side of his curse and blocked the others. He and his friends kept up a steady battery of spells, not allowing Potter a moment to counter attack. His enemy blocked, dodged, and countered the curses at a lightning pace. Draco had only seen such skill from his father and from Professor Snape, he redoubled his efforts unwilling to allow the young wizard a moment of respite.

It was only a matter of time, until Potter made a mistake.

After long seconds of harrying their prey with precise spells, one of Crabbe's curses flew errantly over Potter's furiously dodging form.

"Bombarda Maximus!" Potter roared as he took advantage of the miscue. There was a very powerful blast in the center of the Dueling Circle and dust clogged the air.

Draco cast a powerful shield charm to block any incoming fire, and shied away as his shield was shattered, a second later he registered something striking out at him from his left. Instinctively, he lifted his left forearm to fend off the attack. He heard a crack and felt a stab of pain. Belatedly he registered that Potter had attacked him like a _muggle_. Another movement barely had time to register from his left, and Draco knew darkness.

Draco felt a nasty headache as he returned to consciousness. The smell of various potions assaulted his nose. Opening his eyes he saw Madam Pomphrey, Professor Snape, and his mother. The latter made him groan, he was sure to get mothered to death.

"Narcissa, it seems that your son has awoken." Snape said.

"Oh Draco, thank Merlin you're alright. I was worried that that filthy half-blood had brained you!" His mother's voice was awash with maternal love.

"Perhaps, he would have been doing our house a favor." Draco recognized the voice of his father, he turned his head to find his father and Dumbledore entering the Hospital Ward. His father looked entirely displeased. "You have been unconscious for almost an entire day, since Potter used _muggle_ means to knock you unconscious." His father managed to convey sheer loathing in the word 'muggle'.

"Perhaps _he_ should be punished for his barbaric use of force." Draco's mother said.

"Narcissa, I have already been over this with your Husband. It is true that the use of physical force in duels is illegal, but your son had already forfeited the match by the time he was attacked. Mr. Potter was acting to extricate himself from a situation that young Draco had caused." The old fool's tone was laced with steel.

Narcissa merely sniffed and proceeded to fluff Draco's pillow. Dumbledore addressed Draco, his eyes lacking their usual mirth.

"Mr. Malfoy while it brings me comfort to see you awake, and with your wits about you. There is the serious matter of your punishment. You instigated an attack on another student clearly outside the bounds of a formal duel. The fact that your co-conspirators were aiming to disable, the Blunting Charm remaining upon your wand, and Mr. Potter's own skill will keep you from expulsion." Dumbledore glanced at Lucius for a second. Draco _knew_ that his father had stepped in on his behalf. "Instead you will serve a month of detentions with Professor McGonagall."

A _month_ of detentions! He was about to tell the old codger where to stuff it, when he saw the look on his father's face. He promptly swallowed his outburst.

The old man excused himself and Pomphrey made herself scarce.

The next two hours consisted of his father and Professor Snape extracting their pounds of flesh. His mother tried to defend him, but both men dissected her arguments swiftly.

By the time he was left alone, Draco felt like something that could've been scraped off of the bottom of Filch's shoes.

As soon as Potter had knocked him out, the dome had immediately dissipated. His allies had been summarily disarmed and stunned, it was no comfort to know that the three of them would be receiving their own detentions with Filch.

It had been an unmitigated failure, his carefully cultivated reputation had been besmirched, and even worse House Potter had won a resounding victory against House Malfoy.

It was not until Sunday that he was allowed to leave, none of his friends had been allowed to visit. His father had forbidden it.

As he trudged from the infirmary, Draco came across a pool of water and a crowd of students, including Potter and Longbottom.

He pulled himself out of his morose thoughts. On the stone wall, illuminated by the flickering lights of the torches, in what looked like blood, was written:

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware._

Below the message, stood the petrified form of Mrs. Norris.

As Filch advanced down the corridor a despondent look marring his features, Draco laughed inwardly. Potter may have triumphed in the interim, but the Heir of Slytherin would put things to rights!


End file.
